


The Good, The Bad and The Dirty

by TheVagabondBoy



Series: Even the Devil’s Been An Angel [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Facials, Family Feels, Gang Rape, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, IM SO SORRY BARRY, Lewis Snart is an asshole and I hate him, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Poor Barry, Pre-Series, Prison Hierarchy, Rape/Non-con Elements, THERE IS NO COMFORT HERE JUST PAIN, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Undercover, Undercover Missions, im SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 24,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6882277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVagabondBoy/pseuds/TheVagabondBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen is in prison for a reason.</p><p>That reason is Leonard Snart.</p><p>(previously named The Jail House Rock)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Jailhouse Rock

**Author's Note:**

> *JUST TO CLARIFY*  
> This is not part of the BC Verse! (Just so u know!)
> 
> This is probably gonna be on the back-burner for a while, because of other fics I'm writing and because of life in general. I'll try to keep at it though, but I'm only human, sweeties.
> 
> EDIT:  
> Just a tiny little change, which is that I changed the cell-number from twenty, to thirty-six!
> 
> EDIT THE SECOND:  
> Here's a link to a spotify playlist containing all the songs that I've taken the chapter titles from. They are ordered according to their 'appearance' and this is all ready for your listening pleasure!  
> http://tinyurl.com/goodbaddirty

_Title from: The Jailhouse Rock, by Elvis Presley_

 

"Open on thirty-six!"  
  
The siren blared. The cages rattled as the door to cell thirty-six opened.  
  
"Against the wall, Snart!" one of the guards ordered.  
  
Snart was quick to get off the top bunk and place his hands flat against the wall of the cell. The guards shoved Barry into the cell; he stumbled to stay on his feet.  
  
"Close on thirty-six!"  
  
The siren blared again and the cell door closed.  
  
As it did, Snart stepped back from the wall and turned to Barry. Barry swallowed dryly.  
  
"H-Hey." he stammered, clutching his set of sheets and the extra uniform to his chest.  
  
"Hey, roomie." Snart said, smirking just like Barry had seen on the news a million times.  
  
**  
  
_With just a nod, Singh ordered Joe to clear out. Barry watched Joe leave, the detective looking reluctant to do so._  
  
_The Captain pulled out the chair next to Barry and took a seat. For a moment, he only looked at the CSI. Or, well, former CSI now, Barry supposed._  
  
_"You don’t have to do this, Barry." Singh said._  
  
_His voice was filled with the same sincerity as it always was, in every single word the Captain said. Barry was most surprised that he was referred to by his first name, and not just Allen like usual._  
  
_"We can figure out another way." Singh added. "You can still back out. No one would blame you if you did."_  
  
_Barry shook his head._  
  
_"No. But I would." he said, looking up from his hands. "As soon as he hurts another person,_ kills another person _, I'll blame me. I wanna do this."_  
  
_Singh nodded. Barry was surprised again, when Singh lay his hand on the CSIs shoulder and squeezed it in a way he knew was supposed to be reassuring._  
  
_Joe came back into the room._  
  
_Barry knew it had to be done. Snart would know if it was a sham._  
  
_"Barry Allen, you’re under arrest." Joe said._  
  
_Barry got up, holding his hands out. Joes hands were visibly shaking as they placed the cuffs around Barry’s wrists._  
  
_God, Barry never realized how heavy the cuffs were until they were actually on him._  
  
_Joe read him his rights, grabbing him by the arm to lead him out of the room. As they came into the hallway, every other cop in the building seemed to be staring at him. He couldn’t blame them. As far as they knew, Barry had betrayed them._  
  
_Even the people Barry thought were his friends, looked at him as if he had personally placed the knife in their backs._  
  
_Only Joe, Singh, and a handful of other trusted people knew about the plan. The rest…would be allowed to hate him._


	2. I'll Keep You My Dirty Little Secret

_Title from: Dirty Little Secret, by The All-American Rejects_

 

Barry set his things down on the bottom bunk, swallowing the lump in his throat.  
  
"I-I’m Barry." he attempted and held his hand out to Snart.  
  
The criminal looked him up and down; he was studying his new cellmate, learning as much as he could from just a glance.  
  
"Leonard Snart." he offered at last, shaking Barry’s hand.  
  
Barry feigned surprise; as if he was just now recognizing Snart.  
  
"Leonard Snart?" he repeated. "Like… _the_ Leonard Snart?"

"The one and only." Snart said with a mildly gloating smirk.  
  
Snart turned on his toes. He planted his foot on the stool that jutted out from the wall under the small desk in the corner. From his new height, he climbed into his bunk and clasped his hands on his chest.  
  
_"So, Barry."_ he continued, sounding like he was trying to taste the name as he said it. "What brings you to Iron Heights?"  
  
With a sigh, Barry sat down on the stool, leaning back for just a moment before the edge of the desk stabbed him in the back.  
  
"I…I can’t say." Barry said.  
  
He had to play to Snart’s personality; he had to allow Snart to investigate him. Snart would be much more interested in Barry if he felt like the kid was a problem to solve, a riddle to answer.  
  
Snart hummed from up in his bunk.  
  
"Oh, c’mon, kid." he drawled. "You can tell me. I can keep a secret."  
  
Barry sighed once more, and scrubbed his hands over his face. He got up and in one step he was right by Snart’s side. The bunk was in perfect height to put them at eye level with one another.  
  
"Can you?" Barry asked, biting his lip.  
  
Snart gave him a…strange look. Then he nodded.  
  
"I…I was a CSI. Central City Police." Barry admitted with a quiet voice.  
  
He had never said it in past-tense before. It was almost surreal. Snart’s eyes widened almost immeasurably little, for just a blink before the schooled smirk was back.  
  
"Started gambling. Small stuff at first." Barry continued. His voice was just as heavy as he had practiced. "Then…it got outta hand. I…I had to borrow money. They weren’t happy when I couldn’t pay it back."  
  
God, he could almost believe it himself.  
  
"When they found out where I worked…they wanted favours instead."  
  
Snart hummed. "What kind of favours?" he asked.  
  
They both knew he knew the answer already. Barry averted his eyes. Even though he had done none of what he claimed, it weighed on him as if he had.  
  
"They wanted me to…to fix evidence." he said, picking at the frayed strings sticking out of Snart’s sheet. "Doctor results, lose samples, make sure they got away with whatever they wanted. But I messed up. My bosses caught on."  
  
Snart propped himself up on his elbows, looking almost as if he cared.  
  
"They had to understand." he said, he too keeping his voice low. "You were in a bad situation."  
  
"I know!" Barry burst out, eyes darting up at Snart.  
  
He looked around rapidly to see if anyone had noticed.  
  
"I tried to tell them that, the police! They threatened my sister and my father and everyone I’ve ever said a word to!" he hissed. "They’d kill everyone if I didn’t do what they said."  
  
Snart opened his mouth as if to speak, but before a word came out, the siren whined again and the cells rattled.  
  
"Yard time!" a guard shouted out over the block.  
  
Instead of speaking then, Snart slid off his bunk, coming eye to eye with Barry again.  
  
"Stay close to me." he said. "If anyone finds out, they’ll rip you to pieces."  
  
He turned out the left pocket of his slacks.  
  
"Take it. Don’t let go unless I tell you to." he ordered.  
  
Barry stared down at the offered slip of fabric.  
  
"Why? What’s it mean?" he asked but took a hold of it anyway.  
  
What harm could it do?  
  
"Simply put, you’re my bitch." Snart drawled.  
  
Barry’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open.  
  
"Emphasis on the _'my'_." he added. "You’re my property, and no one touches you but me.”  
  
Barry stood there, gaping like a fish. He had no choice but to follow when Snart began to walk out of the cell.

Oh, this was bad. This was _so very, very bad!_ Barry was supposed to get close to Snart, yes, but he wasn’t supposed to become his _bitch!_ Barry couldn’t breathe. His throat seemed to be closing up and strangling him from the inside.

Barry could turn this around. He could spin it to his advantage.

Uh, if… _if he was Snart’s bitch, that meant Snart would have to fight off whomever tried to ‘stake claim’ to Barry._ So to speak.

Okay! So this wasn’t bad. This was actually kind of good. If he was Snart’s bitch, that meant he would always be close to Snart, as was obvious by the hold he had on Snart’s pocket. _That,_ meant he would have all day, every day, to get in good with Snart and everyone he came near.

Not completely terrible.

Barry’s head was still spinning though. It had ever since he first set foot in Iron Heights, from the moment he stepped off the bus. He was in the thick of it now, but could he really make it out alive? It was _Iron Heights_ , after all. Barry had been coming there to visit since he was a kid, he knew what kind of people were locked up there.

And it seemed as though they were all staring at Snart as pushed through the crowds to get to the yard. No, they weren’t staring at Snart. They were staring at Barry.

Of course they were, because things weren’t already complicated enough as it was.


	3. And I'm Afraid I Won't Get Out Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let you know that since I'm still writing this fic, previous chapters may be edited and changed in the future. Of course if I do something like that, I will let you all know so you can check it out! <3

 

_Title from: Animal, by Neon Trees_

 

 _Barry stumbled slightly as he came into Captain Singh’s office, struggling to keep all his folders in his hands._  
  
_"Captain Singh!" Barry said happily._  
  
_He hurried over and dropped the stack onto the man’s desk._  
  
_"What’s this, Allen?" Singh asked after sipping his coffee._  
  
_"It’s the Hunter case, and Jameson, Kingsley, Green, Padilla, and Johansson." the CSI said, counting them off in his head. "I just got them done."_  
  
_Singh looked confused._  
  
_"And?" he asked._  
  
_"I-Is that not why you wanted me to come down?" Barry stammered._  
  
_What had he missed? Had he made a mistake on a case? Had someone complained about his work? Whatever it was, he was certain that he could make up for it, if he was just given the chance._  
  
_He was about to tell the Captain just that, when the man gestured to one of the chairs Barry had already chosen not to sit in. But the Captain was the Captain, and if he was already on thin ice, Barry didn’t want to misstep again._  
  
_So he sat down, toes tapping nervously._  
  
_Singh looked out the windows into the bullpen and made a get-in-here gesture at someone. Barry watched Joe get up from behind his desk and hurry over. The CSI smiled brightly at his adoptive father as he entered and took the second chair._  
  
_"Are we really gonna do this?" Joe asked the Captain._  
  
_Singh nodded slowly. "It’s the only way. Trust me, Joe, I don’t like it any more than you do, but…he could be our only in." he explained._  
  
_Barry was properly confused. What the hell were they on about?_  
  
_Joe closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. He grabbed the armrests of his chair, scooting it around so he could face Barry._  
  
_"Barry." he said in that dad-voice Barry had heard so many times before. "We…we’re gonna ask you to do something for us. A-And you don’t have to say yes! You can say whatever you want, we’re not gonna force you to do anything."_  
  
_Barry couldn’t help but snort at him, the nervosity shining through as a morbid humour._  
  
_"What is it, Joe?" he asked._  
  
_"We want you to go undercover."_


	4. Ain't No Rest for The Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky for you lovely people, this fic has me under its spell! Its like I physically cannot stop writing on this. Please, keep leaving comments! I wanna know exactly what you think about this work and how you think I can make it better!

_Title from: Ain’t No Rest for The Wicked, by Cage the Elephant_

 

The yard was absolute chaos.  
  
Was it too late for Barry to back out?  
  
He clutched Snart’s pocket a little tighter and followed him closely. At least he had Snart; so far, it seemed the man had taken a liking to Barry, and hopefully that would be protection enough.  
  
A few cons turned to look at them, eyeing Snart and his new friend. Barry hated how it felt, being looked at like he was prey.  
  
Snart crossed the yard with rapid steps. The far end was less crowded, and Barry thanked God for it. He bit his tongue when he spotted Mick Rory, Snart’s frequent accomplice, laying on the grass in the sun. If they threw in with Rory, things could go south quickly.  
  
Barry had read up on everyone Snart associated with, and Mick Rory’s file was certainly the biggest of the bunch; arson, murder, assault, theft, the list went on and on.  
  
They sat down on the grass beside Rory, who opened his eyes to see who had joined him.  
  
"Who’s the kid?" he asked gruffly as he sat up.  
  
"New roomie." Snart said.  
  
"Man, I’m in solitary for _one week_ and you go an’ get yourself some new friends." Rory teased, shoving Snart almost playfully.  
  
Snart smiled at the comment.  
  
"Go on." he told Barry. "Introduce yourself."  
  
"Barry." he said as fast as he could. "Barry Allen."  
  
"I assume you know who this is." Snart said, nodding vaguely in Rory’s direction.  
  
Barry nodded. "Yeah. Mick Rory." he said, forcing a smile onto his face. "I mean, you guys’ve been on the news more times than I can count for longer than I can remember."  
  
Rory scoffed. "Really, Len? Another fanboy?" he said in disbelief.  
  
"Now, now, Mick. Play nice." Len drawled, smirking at his pyromaniac friend. "Tell him where you worked, Barry."  
  
"Central City Police." the kid said quickly.  
  
Rory’s, Micks, eyes widened at that.  
  
"Holy shit, Len, you caught yourself a cop?" he asked, slapping Len over the shoulder.  
  
"CSI. Not a cop." Barry corrected quickly. "Brains, not brawn. And a…a small gambling problem."  
  
Mick hummed. "What happened?" he asked, smirking. "Bet on the wrong pony?"

Barry shrugged. "Counted cards." he said. "Ran into some people that…weren’t so happy with that."

His new friends both nodded. Good, he had them both on the hook; they believed his story. All he had to do was lay low and stay in their circle. As long as he could manage that, everything would be okay. If he just stayed on their good side, remained under Lens protection, everything would be okay.

"Are you ready?" Len asked Mick.

"For what?" Mick asked, looking a little confused.

"What do you think, Mick?" Len drawled with a pointed look.

Barry knew what that meant. They were going to break out. Of course they were going to break out. They had done it a million times before.

Good thing the Captain had asked the guards to toss Mick in solitary; it cleared out Lens cell to make room for Barry, and it also apparently put a dampen on their prison break.

Mick nodded. "Should we be discussin’ this with your, uh, fanboy right here?" he asked, side-eyeing Barry.

Oh, God, please say yes.

Please. Please! Len had to include Barry. He had to, or everything would be in vain.

Len hummed. "Oh, he won’t tell anyone. Will you, Barry?" he asked.

Barry took a deep breath, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Even if I wanted to tell anyone, I wouldn’t have anyone to tell."


	5. I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this fic makes me sad on the inside and the outside

_Title from: I Solemnly Swear that I Am Up to No Good, by From First to Last_

 

_The gates clanged loudly as they closed behind Barry. That sound had always made him uncomfortable, it was like it got under his skin and picked at his spine._

_He supposed he should get used to it, though._

_Barry smiled when he saw his father, even though the man was behind a pane of glass more than an inch thick. They picked up their phones._

_"Dad." Barry said, unable to think of anything better to say._

_"Hey, slugger." Henry responded. "It’s good to see you."_

_Barry hated how his voice sounded through the phone. It had replaced every memory of his real voice; Barry couldn’t conjure up his actual, real life voice, no matter how hard he tried._

_"You too." he said, smiling anyway._

_But Henry, like every father, knew as soon as he saw his son, that something was not right._

_"You alright, son? Did something happen?" he asked._

_Barry shook his head._

_God, he hated the tears already streaming down his face! He wiped them away as quick as he could._

_"No, I’m okay." Barry insisted. "There’s something I need to tell you, dad, and…and you need to promise you won’t get mad."_

_Henry nodded at him and smiled. "Of course, Barry. You can tell me anything. You know that." he said._

_Barry nodded as well. He swallowed the fear._

_"Do…do you know who Leonard Snart is?" he asked. "And Mick Rory?"_

_"Yeah, they’ve been in and outta here for years." Henry said with a shrug. "Don’t usually stay more than a few weeks or so. That guy Snart? He’s clever, he breaks ‘em out every time you guys throw ‘em back in." he said, with a loose gesture at Barry._

_"Yeah."_

_He had to say it. He had to tell Henry. If he didn’t, maybe Henry would believe all the awful things that would be said about Barry._

_No. Of course he wouldn’t, Barry insisted to himself. Just like Barry hadn’t believed the things they said about Henry, Henry would never believe what they would say about Barry._

_But…he would never really know for certain._

_Not until after._

_So Barry had to tell him._

_"Here’s the thing." Barry said, again swallowing the fear that knotted his throat. "I’ve been asked to…to go undercover. To get close to Snart."_

_"What?" Henry exclaimed. “Why? Barry, you can’t! You’re not a cop! You’re not trained for that sorta thing! You could get yourself killed."_

_Barry exhaled heavily as he nodded. He ran his free hand through his hair, tousling the already unruly locks._

_"I know.” he said. “But…this is a chance to get close enough to him to…I don’t really know what. But maybe I can do some good. Save people from him.” Barry tried to insist. “And from Rory!"_

_Henry had to understand! Barry just wanted to do good, and protect people. Henry, a doctor, had to realize that._

_"Barry, don’t do this to yourself.” the man seemed to beg, laying his hand to the glass. “Please. You’re not a cop. It’s not your job to save people."_

_"Dad…" Barry whispered._

_He rested his hand on the glass as well, right over his fathers. Though there was inch-thick glass between them, Barry knew this was the closest they would be, and had been, in a long time. The distance was tough, but it was better than nothing._

_"I know, son.” Henry said, nodding again. “I can’t stop you from doing what you think is right. But if you’re really gonna do this…take care of yourself.”_

_Barry nodded quickly._

_“And watch your back. Snart…he’s a slippery bastard.” Henry continued, tapping at the glass with his finger as if to get his point across. “And Rory? He’s killed just as many people in here as out there. You gotta be careful, son."_

_"Yeah.” Barry said, nodding along. “Thanks, dad. I love you."_

_He could hardly believe Henry was agreeing to this. Well, maybe not agreeing, but admitting he had no control over Barry’s decision. Barry was thankful. He wasn’t sure he could have fought Henry over this and won. He wasn’t sure it was a fight he wanted to win._

_"I love you too, Barry.” the convict said. “Do you need me to do anything? Maybe I can help."_

_For a few short moments, Barry removed his hand from the glass, but only to dry his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket. He snivelled softly, attempting to take a deep breath and gather his thoughts._

_"Okay. Okay.” he said, clearing his throat. “You need to put in for a transfer to a different prison. Any prison, as long as you get away from here.” he said. “You can’t be here when I get here. Things will get too complicated, and you’ll just get caught in the crossfire and I couldn’t live with myself if that happened, dad.”_

_Henry nodded, listening intently._

_"Okay, I’ll do whatever you need me to."_

_"And there’ll be media coverage. A lot of it.” Barry continued. “Whatever they say…don’t believe them. Please. Just don’t believe them."_

_Henry just smiled and shook his head. "Of course not, slugger. No paper or news report could ever make me think you’re anything but a good person. A kind person." he said._

_God, it felt amazing to hear that. To know for sure that Henry wouldn’t believe them._

_Barry exhaled shakily._

_"I might…I might need to pretend I believe you killed mom.” Barry continued, drying his eyes once more. “If Snart asks. He needs to think I don’t have anyone left to care about."_

_The old man just nodded again. "That’s alright, slugger.” he insisted. “After all these years, I don’t care what you have to tell people. I know that you know I would never hurt you, or your mother. You do whatever you need to do to keep yourself safe, Barry. Just remember how much I love you. Okay? Don’t you ever forget it." he reminded with another tap on the glass._

_"I won’t, dad. I never could."_


	6. Kill of the Night

 

_Title from: Kill of the Night, by Gin Wigmore_

 

Barry was so tired.

It had been a week since he got to Iron Heights and he had barely slept at all; the other prisoners in the block seemed obsessed with him, they shouted at him during the night. They threatened him and talked with one another about all the things they would do to this ‘pretty new thing’ they had been given.

Len sat close by his side, almost shoulder to shoulder, and Mick was on the other side of the table. After dinner, they would be herded to the showers with another ten, fifteen cons. That was Barry’s least favourite part of the day. He was literally caught with his pants down by fifteen other men, most of whom had threatened to rape him just the previous night.

Barry tried his hardest to draw out dinner. Sit for as long as he could, eat as slowly as possible. He still had nothing on the armed guards. He couldn’t put up even the smallest fight against them when they all but dragged him out of his seat and shoved him towards the door.

He held on tightly to Lens pocket. Mick walked close behind him, like his personal body guard. Fuck, Barry never thought he would be grateful for Mick Rory, convicted arsonist and murderer.

When they walked into the shower rooms, Len was in front of him and Mick behind him; he could still feel the eyes of the other cons on him though. Len lead Barry into the corner as always, where he could be boxed in by the two criminals.

Barry flinched when the metal grate door closed with a bang and clatter. He and the other two showered as fast as they could. None of them wanted to stay there for longer than necessary.

Of course, everything went to shit anyway. It was just Barry’s luck, wasn’t it?

The lockers slammed around them. Barry shrank, feeling dwarfed by the muscular men that stood on either of his sides. He prayed to God they would protect him from whatever was coming. The air seemed to have been sucked out of the room.

"What you got there, Snart?” a con asked as he approached the small group. “Lemme see."

Len stepped between him and Barry, Mick doing the same. There were a lot of them, though. It was Mick, Len, and Barry against fifteen other prisoners. They could fight, but they wouldn’t win, not with those odds. Barry had seen videos of Len and Mick fighting, and they were good, but not even they could take on fifteen guys and come out of it alive.

Barry tugged on Lens pocket, hands shaking.

"Mick.” Len said.

The arsonist actually hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside to show Barry to the other cons. Barry was trembling all over. He was so scared. This couldn’t be happening.

_Please, Len. Please, no. Please don’t do this. Don’t let this happen. Don’t let them do this._

The con hummed, a disgusting smirk on his face. " _Cute_. Look at me.” he ordered.

Barry swallowed the lump in his throat, but it only melted into the knot in his stomach, then looked up. The whole crew of cons were just as muscled up as Mick and Len, and covered in ink. There was no doubt about what was coming.

“Oh, he got eyes to die for, don’t he?" the con said, the obvious lead of the little band.

Len nodded. "Indeed.” he said, and held up a warning hand when the con attempted to take a step closer. “Look. Don’t touch."

The whole gang seemed to rumble with laughter at that.

"Oh, c’mon, Snart!” he said and gestured around the locker room. “We’re all friends in here. Friends share."

It started in a flash.

One of the cons threw something in Barry’s direction, and he dove behind Len.

Then, just a second later, there was shouting and hands grabbing at Barry’s arms and tearing at his clothes. They were so strong and Barry wasn’t! He just wasn’t strong enough to get away from them, to get out of those hands that felt disgusting on his body. Their nails dug into him and seemed to crawl in under his skin.

“Run, Barry!” Len shouted as the hands were ripped away from Barry’s body. “Run!”

Barry didn’t think, he didn’t question it, he just ran. He ran as fast as he could; his sock-covered feet slid and slipped over the tile floor. _Fuck,_ this place was like a damn maze! Where was the door?! Where were the guards?! Where was anyone that could help?!

He didn’t get far before he hit the floor, head feeling as if it was crushed into pieces when it slammed into the ground.

What was happening?

Everything was spinning, spinning, _spinning_ , and making him nauseous.

His ears were ringing; a single tone that stretched into forever.

Why were people grabbing at him?

Where was he again?

"Barry!"

Like a rubber band breaking, _snap_ and the world came back into focus. Barry opened his mouth and let out the only noise his body could produce, a scream unlike anything he had ever heard before.

The hands were all over him and ripping at his clothes. His body protested, kicking and clawing at the arms and hands of whoever it was that was grabbing him. He had to fight! He couldn’t let this happen without fighting it!

“Mick!” Barry screamed, begging for his protectors to save him. “Len!”

It only earned him a swift kick in the gut. And another, and another, and there was no air left in the world when pain exploded through his chest.

Barry couldn’t move. His whole body felt numb. The hands were all over him.

Metal clanged loudly, and someone shouted for them to freeze.

_"Barry!"_

That was Lens voice. He…he wanted to answer, but he couldn’t get his voice to work. He couldn’t do anything at all except watch the world go dark.


	7. You Know I'm No Good

_Title from: You Know I’m No Good, by Amy Winehouse_

 

Barry’s body was on fire. It began in his chest, blooming out through his veins to completely consume him.

“Mister Allen?” a voice said. “Can you hear me?”

He didn’t know that voice. What happened? Where was he even? Barry wrenched his eyes opened, and was blinded by the lights.

“Wh-…where am I?” Barry asked.

He was surprised at the sound of his own voice; it was rough and gravelly, so tired and hoarse.

“You’re in the hospital wing, Mister Allen.” the voice said. “How are you feeling?”

Barry tried to move, and the voice, a man, a doctor, helped him sit up.

“I…my head hurts.” Barry said, attempting to rub at his eyes with his hands.

He was unable though, due to his left being tightly wrapped in gauze and a big plaster taped over the needle stuck in his right. What? What happened to him?

“Yes, you got a serious concussion from your fall in the locker room.” the Doctor said, with his hand on Barry’s shoulder. “Do…do you remember what happened?”

He was asking himself the same question. Barry racked his brain for the memories, but…everything was kind of fuzzy. What happen? Okay, work it backwards.

It was…after dinner. And they were going to the showers. Then…oh, God, there was a fight and they were all over him! Oh, Jesus…it was almost as if he could feel their hands on his body again, holding onto him so tight it hurt, and the beating they gave him was still rocking his head.

“Mister Allen, I’m Doctor Hurst.” the Doctor said with a soft voice, making him look up from his hands. “I’m the head physician here, and the Warden has asked me to help find out what happened in that locker room. The other prisoners have given their sides of the story, but we need yours too. You…you were the main victim.”

Barry nodded, but stopped quickly when the jerky motion made his head pound. He groaned at the pain.

“I know, Mister Allen.” Doctor Hurst said. “There’s some painkillers in your IV, so the pain should let up soon.”

“Thanks.” Barry said lowly.

Hurst seemed nice. Too nice to be working at a prison. Barry watched as he pulled up a stool and sat down by his side.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked then.

Barry took a deep breath.

He told Hurst the story, all that he remembered. Hurst handed him some napkins when he teared up; the sympathy was refreshing. He took notes, scribbling quickly on his clipboard.

His voice was wet with the fear he still felt when he spoke about what happened. The Doctor held his hand and smiled in a way that only doctors could, so warm and reassuring. Fuck, Barry had never felt so weak before, so powerless, as he had when he was laying there on the locker room floor. He had been beaten up before, that was nothing new; but this? What they tried to do to him?

Just thinking about it made him want to throw up. It was disgusting. _Disgusting_! Barry didn’t even understand how someone could do something like that someone! And he never thought it would happen to him.

But he supposed no one ever did.

**

Doctor Hurst was against letting him go back to his cell. He insisted on putting Barry in ad-seg, but Barry had to say no. He hated it, he wanted to accept the offer, but he couldn’t. He was still on a mission. He had to stay close to Len and Mick.

They would still protect him, hopefully.

_Or maybe not._

Maybe Barry was damaged goods. Maybe he wasn’t worth it anymore.

He supposed he would find out soon.

The guards lead him through the cellblock. The cons were watching him again, watching their handy work. His sprained wrist, the black-eye and busted up lip and stitched up brow. There was more than they could see though. Claw marks running up and down his legs, bruises dotting his every limb, and his head still throbbing from the concussion. The big hand-shaped bruise wrapped around his throat was horrible to even look at, worse to feel every time he took a breath.

“Open on thirty-six!”

Barry tried his hardest to block out the loud siren and the clattering metal.

Len was up against the wall, but he was looking at Barry as best he could.

The door closed behind him again, and Len hurried to him. It looked as if Len wanted to hug him, wrap his arms around his celly, but was keeping his distance.

“Barry, are you okay?” he asked instead. “How’re you feeling?”

“I…it’s fine.” Barry whispered lowly, keeping his eyes down on the floor. “Looks worse than it is.”

Len stepped closer again. He lifted his hand to Barry’s chin, gently forcing him to look up. It was a soft gesture, one that Barry easily could have resisted if he so chose. But he didn’t. He met Lens eyes and saw how _angry_ the criminal looked.

Oh, no, Len was angry with him! God, Barry was so stupid! How could he think that Len would be interested in him after he was almost _raped_? After he had become pushed down even lower than before? Len had to understand! Barry hadn’t meant for it to happen!

“I-I’m sorry, Len!” Barry pleaded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Barry.” Len said flatly, silencing the kid. “It’s not your fault. You’re a victim in this. What they tried to do… _I will kill all of them._ ”

Barry shook his head as quickly as he could; the pain didn’t matter right now, he couldn’t let Len kill all those cons, no matter what they did.

“No, Len. No, no, no, i-it’s fine.” Barry insisted.

Barry took Lens arms and lay them around Barry’s waist, stepping into the embrace he had made for himself. He lay his head against Lens shoulder, but for a second he feared he had gone too far, when Len tensed.

Then Len moved his arms a little and got himself a better position, one arm around the kid’s waist and running his hand in a soft circle over Barry’s back. It felt…nice. Safe. At least in their cell, no one could hurt Barry. There, they were out of danger for a while. Until the morning came and they were forced to ‘mingle’ again.

“Can we…can we get out of here soon?” Barry asked softly, whispering into Lens neck.

The man nodded. “Yes.” he said, the anger still brewing in his chest and his voice. “Tomorrow night. I’ll get you out of here, Barry. _I promise_.”

Barry didn’t care about his job, his mission, there in that moment. It wasn’t important. Len hugged Barry tight enough to protect him from the…the thoughts of what happened. All that mattered was that he would get out. He would get away from that horrible place, and be free again.

He wouldn’t be free, per se. He would be a fugitive, just like Mick and Len.

But they would be together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let you know, real quick, that lm not gonna post new chapters for maybe a week or so, because Im gonna try my hardest to actually finish writing this thing. Im already really close to the end, writing wise, but I think itll be easier on me if I just get there. Idk, I kinda just feel a bit stressed about this. I have prom and graduation and moving and a bunch of shit crammed into the next two weeks, so its all just stacking up on me all at once. All I wanna do is bring you the best story I can, and for that to be possible, I just need a little time.
> 
> I love all the support youve shown this fic, and it makes me so happy to just go back and read through all the wonderful comments. I really, really hope you guys can just hang in there with me for a little while
> 
> <3 all the love in the world to you <3
> 
>  
> 
> P.S  
> Some of the chapter titles are snippets of song lyrics. Would u like me to add the names of the songs in the beginning of the chapters? The songs aren't always super applicaple to the story, the lyrics might just fit well as titles. :)


	8. The Kids Aren't Alright

 

_Title from: The Kids Aren’t Alright, by Fall Out Boy_

 

All the cells in the block were open, like every afternoon during yard time. Most of the cons were milling about in the block, just waiting for time to pass, or out in the yard in the sun. Barry was practically shaking the entire building with how hard he was trembling. This needed to end. Barry wouldn’t live through much more it, and Len knew it. They had to do something _right now._

Len went out on the walkway outside their cell and scanned the crowd.

“Mick!” he shouted.

The arsonist came out of his cell on the lower level to see who had called for him. Len made a quick get-over-her gesture, nodding into his and Barry’s cell. Mick hurried as much as he could, but not too much to start a fight with anyone he pushed past.

The two stepped into the cell, where Barry lay curled up in his bunk.

“Stay here.” Len ordered. “I’ll go call in the cavalry.”

“Hurry.” Mick muttered at him, eyes not leaving Barry’s frightened form. “If they come after him again…I can’t hold off the whole block, Len.”

Len nodded, patting his old friend on the shoulder.

“I’ll keep it quick.”

Mick watched him go. Once he was out of sight, he turned back to Barry.

The kid looked horrible. After what they had tried to do to him, Mick sympathized. They all looked like crap, though. He and Len had their fair share of bruises and busted lips too.

“Barry?” he said, keeping his voice low.

He didn’t want to frighten the kid any more than he already was. Barry hummed and pulled his cover a little tighter around himself. Mick sat down at the foot end of Barry’s bunk.

“We’re gonna get outta here, kid.” he said.

Barry snivelled and nodded slowly.

“Where’s Len?” he whispered but didn’t look up. “Where’d he go?”

“He’s settin’ things up for us.” Mick explained. “Tonight. We’re goin’ tonight. Someone’s comin’ to get us out.”

“Who?” Barry asked.

He sounded so scared; terrified by the prospect of another unknown.

“A friend.” he said. “Guess that’s what you’d call ‘er. Don’t worry. She ain’t gonna hurt ya.” he promised. “And if she tried…I’d beat her head in. No matter what Len’d do to me for it.”

Barry snivelled and nodded again.

“Barry.” Mick said. “Can I…can I touch you? Hold your hand? I mean, if you want me to.”

He thought it was best to ask. The kid was skittish as hell, and Mick, again, sympathized. He guessed anyone would be after that shit.

After a short moment, Barry moved under the covers. The fingers of his un-bandaged hand poked out into the light, and Mick placed his hand over them. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Barry’s knuckles.

“Don’t you worry, kid.” he said. “We got your back.”

“I just want a fucking cigarette.” Barry muttered from under his covers, muffled slightly.

Mick hummed. He usually wasn’t one to smoke, but it sort of just crept up on you when you were locked up; there wasn’t really much else to do. Mick needed to have something to do with his hands or he’d go insane. A cigarette was good enough, and he kind of liked how the tobacco glowed when it burned, too. Sometimes he just lit one and stared at the glow until it burned out.

**

_"Even if I wanted to tell anyone, I wouldn’t have anyone to tell."_

_Mick nodded. He pulled the pack of smokes from the breast pocket of his shirt, placing a cancer stick at the corner of his mouth. Len accepted one when Mick offered, and Barry, surprisingly enough, did too. The lighter clicked a few times before it caught a good flame. Mick inhaled deeply on the cigarette to get it lit properly._

_Barry tried to do the same, but he had never touched a cigarette before. The smoke burned his throat like fire; he coughed and it just burned even worse. Len patted him on the back, taking the cigarette out of his hand._

_“Jesus, kid.” Mick said, chuckling to himself. “You never smoked before?”_

_Barry shook his head. He spat out a mouthful of foul-tasting saliva, hoping it would clear his taste buds._

_"No.” he said. “My adoptive dad is a cop, so rebelling was out of the question as soon as he showed me and my sister the inside of a jail cell when we were twelve.”_

_But, not wanting to seem any less to them, Barry took the cigarette back._

_“When in prison, I guess.” he muttered to himself and took another drag._

_It was still hard to swallow. It burned his throat and his lungs, but he needed to fit in. All he wanted was to get in good with them, to prove that he was on their side. If that meant he would need to smoke a few cigarettes, then so be it._

_If Joe knew he was smoking, he would strangle him._

_“So what’s the plan, Lenny?” Mick asked, exhaling a pale pillar of smoke. “How we getting’ out this time?”_

_Len hummed, tapping his cigarette so the ash fell into the dirt. “Well, with you in the shoe, things have been moved up a little. A week, maybe two.” he said. “We need to see in which cell they stick you now that they put Barry with me.”_

_“And then?” Mick asked._

_“Don’t worry about it, Mick.” Len said, dragging on his smoke. “I’ll let you know well before it goes down.”_

_Mick nodded in agreement. Sounded good enough, it had worked every other time they had broken out. As long as Len knew what the plan was, Mick followed and they got out as cleanly as possible. There was, of course, a slight mess every single time; breaking out of Iron Heights without making a fuss would be impossible. Or, well, close enough to it that not even Len could do it from the inside._

_Barry was a bit worried though. So far, there had been no mention of his part in this scheme._

_His throat had become nearly numb with the fire there._

_“A-And me?” he asked lowly, eyes down at the ground._

_“You?” Len said._

_“Yeah.” Barry said. “I…I won’t be long for this world if you leave me here. Like you said, if anyone finds out who I am, where I worked…”_

_Len hummed. “True.” he said. “How about this, I’ll think about it.”_

_It was…better than nothing. Him considering it was better than him flat out denying Barry._

_They sat in silence for some minutes. Barry smoked another cigarette. He didn’t like them, they tasted horrible, but…it seemed to help calm his nerves. Hm, he guessed that was why so many people got hooked._

_"Hey, kid.” Mick said, and Barry was woken from his thinking by the cigarette butt he was hit by._

_“What?” he asked lowly, throwing the butt back at him. “What d’you want?”_

_“How’d you end up here?” the arsonist asked. “Seem like a straight shooter to me."_

_An unprompted question, but considering Barry’s previous place of employment he supposed it was bound to come up sooner or later. He was kind of glad it came up so early; at least then Barry could get the big lies out of the way, then all he had to do was maintain it for as long as needed._

_"I told you.” Barry said. He knew he had to make them ‘work’ for it a little. “I counted cards."_

_Mick scoffed. "Yeah, but I mean why?” he asked, toying with his lighter. “Sounds to me like you were a regular old goodie two shoes 'fore it all went sideways."_

_Barry sighed. He nodded, he shrugged, he dragged on his cigarette._

_"Yeah. Maybe.” Barry said. “I only ever became a CSI so I could figure out who really killed my mom. Everyone said it was my dad but I…I never believed them.” he explained in a soft voice. “Not for a second. The first thing I did when I started at the CCPD was get her casefile. Turns out…they were right all along. He did it. He killed her. And I just…couldn’t handle it, I guess. Not sure how I started gambling really. It sorta just happened. Then, like you said, it all went sideways."_

_He fucking hated talking about Henry that way. He hated lying about that. Barry knew Henry was innocent, and here he was, telling people how he had found out Henry was a killer. All these lies were going to drive Barry insane, if they didn’t kill him first._

_Len nodded slowly. "Hard hand to be dealt." he said._

_Barry snorted. "You’re telling me. Resident card counter being told jokes about a shitty hand. One for the history books." he said, taking a last drag of his smoke before he crushed it in the dirt._

**

With a murderous look, Len was granted access to the phone. The cons in line stepped aside for him. It was obvious they had heard about the locker room, and had realized that Leonard Snart was a force to be reckoned with once he, or his people, had been wronged.

Len punched in his sister’s number. She answered after a few rings.

“Hey, Lenny!” she said with an audible smile.

“Hey, Lis.” Len replied. “How’s planning for that party of yours going?”

A simple code, but it was good enough; as long as they didn’t out right say anything about escaping, the guards had no valid reason to step in.

“Oh, it’s going great, Lenny!” she sing-sang at him. “We’re all set! All we need is your part of the guest list. Any changes?”

Len hummed. “Yes, another plus one.” he said.

“Sounds good.” Lisa said. “And when do you want me to send his invite?”

“Tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know I said I wouldn't be posting for a while, but I had some down-time today so I thought 'why not?'  
> I also wanted to thank u for being patient with me <3 I'm still in the middle of this really high-stress period, so there probably won't be more chapters for at least a few days, but I hope u can all hang in there a little longer :)  
> I'm almost finished writing too, I just have few more chapters to write and u all have something very, VERY special to look forward to: a three pages long sex scene between our boys <3
> 
> P.S  
> i added it in the notes on the last chapter, but I thought id put it in here too, the titles to some of the chapters are lyrics from songs. The songs might not be super applicable all the time, but they're all songs I like and the lyrics fit well with the story. Do u want me to add the song names in the beginning of the chapter? Maybe something for u to listen to while u read? :)


	9. But Some Are Just Black Holes

_Title from: 27, by Fall Out Boy_

 

This, like many, many things since Barry’s arrival at Iron Heights, was horrible. Awful, horrible, and nerve-racking.

Lights out was in two minutes and twenty-four seconds according to Len’s watch, which was currently secured around Barry’s wrist. Even after lights out, though, they would have to wait for an hour, until when the guards did their patrol outside the block and security at the entrance to said block was as thin as it would get.

Barry’s heart was pounding like a bass drum in his chest. He was counting the seconds, watching the thin hand tick forward.

“It’s gonna be okay, Barry.” Len said, pulling Barry a little closer to his side.

Barry leaned his head on Lens shoulder. He took a deep breath as he got himself settled beside Len.

He hoped so dearly that Lens plan was good. What if things went wrong? What if Len got hurt, or Mick? What if they got hurt, or killed even, and _it was Barry’s fault?_ How could he ever forgive himself for it? How would he move on from that?

Barry wasn’t sure he would be able to do that; to move on from them and put them behind him. What were they doing to him?

“Lights out, convicts!” a guard shouted into the block.

The place went dark.

It was suddenly so very quiet. There was no humming from the fluorescent lights to settle Barry’s nerves. He had gotten so used to that sound in just a week. Barry wondered how he would ever get by without it.

“You okay, Barry?” Len whispered.

“Yeah.” Barry said quickly. “Just nervous. Never broken out of prison before.”

Len chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. We’ve done this a hundred times before.” he said. “All you need to do is stay close to me, and let us handle everything.”

“Okay.” Barry whispered. “And…and then? After we get out? What happens then?”

“We hide. Lay low for a few days, a week maybe.” Len said with a shrug. “Then…we get back to normal.”

Barry exhaled, looking at the watch again. Still a lot of time left.

Get back to normal?

Barry couldn’t go back to normal, not _his own normal_ at least. He had to worm his way into Len and Micks normal.

“And me?” Barry asked. “I mean, ‘s not like I can go back to the CCPD.”

Len hummed. He squeezed Barry’s shoulder lightly, careful not to touch too hard on his bruises.

“You could stay with us.” he suggested. “Mick and I. Could always use another set of hands.”

A smile filled Barry’s face.

Perfect. He could be with them for however long he wanted.

For the plan. Yes. Of course, for the plan. Why else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm sorry this chapter's kinda short! I really just wanted to keep the escape in one chapter, but I also wanted to have some 'introspection' or whatever you call it and they just didnt really mesh together in a good chapter-sized chunk :)  
> But don't worry! I am really, REALLY close to finishing this fic! The idea is that as soon as I finish writing (and editing) I'll post all the remaining chapters at once, so be prepared for that to happen in maybe the next few days or so. I cant't make any promises though, sorry! Things are still pretty stressful and my sister just came home from studying abroad and it's all crazy right now.  
> Your patience is deeply appreciated, as are your comments and kudos! Please, keep leaving comments! I've said it before and I'll say it many times more, I want to know EXACTLY what you think! Be brutal!! I can't improve my writing if I don't know my short-comings!
> 
> I love all of you for even just reading this, it means so much to me to check in on this fic and see the view counter having gone up even just the slightest! <3 :*


	10. Put On Your War Paint

_Title from: The Phoenix, by Fall Out Boy_

 

The watch beeped only once before Barry silenced it again.

One minute to prepare.

Len got up, grabbing the book he had picked up from the prison library a few days ago. He knocked the spine against the steel bars three times rapidly to signal Mick. As he tossed the book onto his bunk, Len hurried over to the toilet. He fished out the two prison issue t-shirts they had left to soak in the toilet water. Perhaps not the most pleasant idea in the world, but it was all they had. He wrung them out as much as he could before he passed one to Barry.

“Thirty seconds.” Barry whispered.

They tied the shirts around their heads, making sure both mouth and nose was properly covered.

They were ready to go.

“Twenty seconds.”

Barry couldn’t breathe, and not just because of his improvised gasmask.

“Ten.”

His heart pounded louder and louder.

“Nine.”

He hoped they would get through this.

“Eight.”

He hoped Mick was in sync with them.

“Seven.”

They couldn’t carry him if he wasn’t.

“Six.”

They would have to leave him behind.

“Five.”

Barry didn’t want to leave Mick behind.

“Four.”

They had to make it through this.

“Three.”

All of them.

“Two.”

 _Together_.

“One.”

A low clang of metal in the distance. Not an unusual sound to hear, but this? This was the clang they had been waiting for. This was the signal. This was the gas canister being opened and tossed.

Barry flattened his mask out over his face. He couldn’t let the gas leak in.

Another few seconds to let said gas work its magic, and the whole block was out cold. Yes, the cons had been sleeping, but this would be a guarantee that no one woke up and that no insomniacs messed up the plan. And the guards would get a well-deserved nap.

The vent in the middle of the ceiling in the block popped open and fell two stories until it hit the concrete floor. The noise didn’t matter, not with everyone down for the count.

“Right on time, Lis!” Len called out as a figure dressed in black rappelled down from the vent.

“You know it, Lenny!” the woman called back, voice muffled by her gas mask. “Gimme a second. I’ll be right there.”

She came down to the bottom level of the block. It was too dark and too far away, so Barry couldn’t see what she was doing there. Nothing happened for a handful of moments. Then bang! It was like a firecracker, but it sounded like so much more with how it reverberated around the concrete and metal.

As the ringing in their ears began to settle, they could hear her and Mick running across the metal walkways. They skid to a stop by Len and Barry’s cell.

"Get back." Lisa ordered them.

For once, Len followed the given order and crowded Barry as far back into the cell as they could get. He shielded Barry with his body, back to the bars.

"Fire in the hole!" Lisa shouted.

_Bang!_

The cell door sprung open as the locking mechanisms were blown to pieces. Barry’s head was swimming in the noise. _Fuck_ , it was so loud. It would be a freaking miracle if he had any hearing left after this was over.

Len pushed Barry out of the cell ahead of him, but moved in to lead the group himself. Mick fell in line behind Barry almost like a reflex. Barry stifled the urge to speak up when Lisa passed out guns. All he could do was hope to God that no one got killed.

They moved swiftly. Lisa started packing the gate out of the block with explosives as soon as it was within reach. Barry actually managed to cover his ears in time for that one. It didn’t do much, but at least his ears weren’t ringing.

The group set off again the moment they got the second gate open, throwing their masks aside.

It was obvious Len had spent a lot of time in Iron Heights; he ran through the halls without hesitation, without once stopping to get his bearings. The guards barely stood a chance. They mowed through them like a hot knife through butter.

They literally exploded into the food court. The sound of guards in riot gear wasn’t far behind them, and the sirens were wailing all through-out the prison.

The group barrelled into the kitchen. Barry wanted to stay with Mick and Len where they took cover behind the counters, shooting back at the guards. The only thing that stopped him was the vice-like grip Lisa got on his hand and how she almost literally dragged him further into the kitchen.

"What’re we doing?!" he asked as they came to a stop.

Gunshots echoed all around them.

Lisa pulled a brick of plastic explosives from the bag she carried on her hip.

"This is the loading bay door." she said, speaking as quickly as she could. "It’s where they load food and shit. _We_ , are gonna blow it open."

She tore off a big chunk of the brick and placed it in Barry’s hands. He split it up into pieces, packing them onto the hinges of the massive door while Lisa did the same with the several locks. They took cover again.

"Fire in the hole!" Lisa shouted.

The shooting stopped for a moment, perhaps Mick and Len covering their ears, before the door blew open. The door hit the floor with a bang almost as loud as the explosion itself. They could see the tiles had shattered under its weight when they hurried back out of cover.

"Mick! Len!" Lisa shouted as she pushed Barry towards their exit. "We gotta go!"

The sound of running was nearly drowned by the gunshots.

"If we let up they’re gonna overrun us!" Len yelled back.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck _, fuck, **fuck! Fuck!**_

He had to do something! He had to help, or they wouldn’t make it out of there!

Barry grabbed the knife strapped to Lisa’s calf and pushed her aside. He ran back into the kitchen, eyes scanning all the shelves he could see. Where was it? It had to be there!

Yes! Yes, there it was!

Flour!

He snatched a bag off the shelf and ran towards where Mick and Len were battling off the guards, stabbing the bag full of holes as he did. Barry’s skid into cover beside Mick, hitting the counter with a little more force than he had hoped for.

"What the hell’re you doin’?!" Mick yelled at him. "You’ll get yourself killed!"

"Lighter!" was all Barry yelled back. "Now! C’mon!"

Len fired a few shots over the counter as Mick dug his contraband lighter out of his pocket and handed it to the kid.

"Throw this!" Barry ordered and pushed the bag of flour into Micks arms.

The white powder dusted out of the bag, coating them both and flooding into their airways. There wasn’t any time to question it. Mick launched the bag into the air as hard as he could.

"Go!" Barry shouted, shoving Mick to get him going. "Go, go, go, go!"

All three of the cons scuttled away into the kitchen. Barry was last in line. He flipped open the lighter and struck it.

Nothing.

Fuck! Barry stopped, bullets whizzing past him. Goddamn it, the lighter just had to make one more fucking flame!

Again!

 _Nothing_!

C’mon, again!

Yes! Yes, he had a light!

He was running before he had even thrown the lighter.

The fire seemed to fill the kitchen in the blink of an eye. The force of the explosion threw Barry forwards; thankfully, he was far away enough from the blast that it didn’t send him to the floor.

He followed his group out through the loading bay. They climbed into the big truck that was parked in the bay. It looked like a food delivery truck, probably stolen for the purpose of gaining easy access to the prison. Lisa could have forged credentials and gotten past the gates without a problem.

As they scuttled into the truck, the guards flooded out of the bay too. The engine revved back to the land of the living with a metallic roar. Barry’s heart was racing; he sat crammed in between Len and Mick and held onto them for dear life as the truck rammed through the front gate, the sound of gunfire not far behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOH, I AM SO CLOSE TO FINISHING WRITING THIS THING!  
> I have maybe one and a half, two and a half chapters left to write so I might even finish it today, if I really hunker down! (Which I am planning to do ;) just for you lovelies)  
> <3
> 
> EDIT:  
> Not gonna be able to finish tonight, sadly. I fell down a set of stairs and my knee got all fucked up, and its getting really hard to stay focused. I might even need to go in to the ER, so yeah...  
> I hope you'll survive on these ten chapters until I get my head back on straight <3


	11. Got Room for One More Troubled Soul?

_Title from: Alone Together, by Fall Out Boy_

 

Barry couldn’t breathe and it felt like that was becoming a running theme in this whole thing.

They had switched vehicles twice already, why were they stopping again?

It seemed as though they were finally _there_ , wherever there was, when Lisa cut the engine and leaned back with an exhausted sigh.

“We should be good for now.” she said. “We’ll have to keep an ear on the police band, just to be sure.”

Barry practically _fell_ out of the backseat as soon as the door opened. Micks grip on his arm kept him upright though. Len was by his side after a moment, helping him get out without falling over.

Barry was expecting a lot of things, mostly getting yelled at for putting himself in danger. What he didn’t expect was Len to hug him. Tightly.

Then he pulled back and started yelling.

"What the hell were you thinking, Barry?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed! That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen! You were _this close_ to getting yourself shot!"

When he stopped to take a breath, Barry jumped into the conversation.

"So?!" he yelled. "I’m fine! Lisa is fine! Most importantly, _you are fine and Mick is fine_! We are all _perfectly fine!_ "

And before Len, or anyone really, could argue, Barry headed for the closest door and stormed out through it.

Things were quiet in the garage where the ‘crew’ stood, united in full force again.

"What the hell was that?" Mick muttered.

They both saw the look that Lisa gave them, before she rolled her eyes.

"He did it to _save_ you guys." Lisa said.

"Why?" Len asked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "It was stupid, and an unnecessary ri-"

_"Because he cares about you, you idiots!"_ Lisa clarified, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Len, for a genius, you’re an idiot."

**

God, what had this become?

Without Barry even noticing, this _job_ had stopped being just a job.

It was the oldest undercover-mission-cliché in the world, and Barry had fallen right into the trap.

 

_Cliché:_

_Person A goes undercover to get close to Person B._

_Person A falls head over heels in love with Person B._

 

Well, in this case it was:

 

_Person A falls head over heels in love with Person B and Person C._

 

Because as much as they would like to think, and pretend, it wasn’t true, there was no Leonard Snart without Mick Rory; just as there was no Mick Rory without Leonard Snart.

They were the epitome of a balancing act, and Barry had somehow, at least in his own mind, become the very fulcrum they tipped on. What was this even? Things had gotten so complicated in just a week. Barry had gone into this with only the intent to follow Singh’s orders, but…it had become a lot more. Maybe more than he could handle.

“Barry.”

He looked up from the dirty concrete floor. Mick and Len were walking toward him, where he sat on the funky-smelling couch. They were in some kind of workshop. Barry hadn’t recognized the neighbourhood very much, but he knew they were at the outskirts of Central City, in one of the less…well-off areas.

The criminals…well, maybe Barry had no right to say that now. Maybe he was a criminal too.

_Mick and Len_ sat down on the couch with him, on either of his sides.

“What you did…” Len started. “It was dumb. But you probably saved our lives. So thank you.”

Mick nodded along. “Yeah. We woulda been in couple body bags if it weren’t for you back there.” he said. “And that was smart, kid. I mean, settin’ up a dust explosion on the fly like that?”

Barry shrugged. “No big deal.” he said lowly.

No one said a word. Barry…he was uncertain. About everything, really. His mission was getting out of hand. When it was just Len, Barry could have at least some slight measure of control over the situation. Then Mick was added into the mix, and…yes, it was a complication but Barry was smart, he could handle it.

“Barry.”

He looked up again, eyes landing on Len.

“What do you want to do?” Len asked.

“What d’you mean?” Barry asked lowly.

He gingerly massaged his sprained wrist, the dirty bandages beginning to come loose.

“We could set you up somewhere.” Len said. “We could get you a new identity and some money, and move you out of the country. Plenty of beaches to enjoy out there.”

Barry shrugged.

“You could stay.” Mick suggested then. “With us. If you wanna.”

Barry leaned back into the cushions with a heavy breath.

He had to stay. For whatever reason he could and would convince himself of, Barry had to stay.

Barry reached out. With his bandaged hand, he took Micks hand, and with the other he took Lens.

Barry was smart. He was an intelligent scientist, and he could figure this out. He could figure it out and make Joe and Singh and Henry proud, and prove to the city that he wasn’t a bad guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> I'm feeling a lot better today, and my knee is much better too! Thanks for all the support, it really meant a lot to me to check in on this fic and see all you lovely people sending all your love at me in the comments <3  
> Today, I will hunker down, as I said I would before my stupid accident, and hopefully, HOPEFULLY, I can finally get this thing finished and get it up here for all of you! I am SO close to the end, and it is tearing me up inside because of EMOTIONS AND COLDFLASHWAVE FEELS!!!! AND SNART FAMILY FEELS AND MICK RORY FEELS AND ALLEN-WEST FAMILY FEELS!!!!  
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	12. Familiar Taste of Poison

_Title from: Familiar Taste of Poison, by Halestorm_

 

_“Snart.”_

_Len looked up from his book. He smirked to himself when he saw the guard standing outside his cell. This would be good. He got up to meet the guard, tossing his book aside._

_“Afternoon, Officer.” Len drawled. “What seems to be the problem?”_

_The guard rolled his eyes and looked around quickly, certainly to make sure they were not over-heard by any other guards._

_“You’re getting a new celly.” the guard informed. “They’re puttin’ Rory downstairs when he gets outta the shoe. Guess they don’t want you two together.”_

_Len hummed. He had foreseen that this may happen. Breaking out was a little harder if they weren’t in the same cell; the timing would be off between them, and breaking open another cell would add time to the count. It would add a few steps to the plan, but nothing too detrimental._

_“And the new guy?” Len asked, leaning against the bars as he scanned over the block. “Who is he?”_

_The guard snorted. “Some kid, Barry Allen.” he said. “You heard of him?”_

_Oh, Len certainly had. The case had been on the news for a while now; CSI with a gambling debt, an adopted father who was a cop and a biological father who murdered the mother. This could be interesting._

_“Yeah.” Len said. “You’ll get your usual as soon as we’re out again. Shouldn’t be long.”_

_“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, Snart.” the guard said then moved along._

_The guards were not to be trusted, but good information could always be bought._

_Barry Allen._

_Disgraced CSI._

_A unique opportunity._

_If Len could flip the kid, and that was a big 'if', he could revolutionize their game. Well, perhaps not_ revolutionize _, but he could_ certainly _make things more interesting. If, and again a very big if, the kid was to become…_ sympathetic _to Lens cause, his insider knowledge of the justice system could be an advantage._

_With Allen on their side, they could literally be ten steps ahead of the game. They could have the trained eyes of a CSI on them at all times, correcting their mistakes and shifting the odds into their favour. With Allen on his shoulder as he planned their heists, Len could see all the things he wouldn’t normally see, all the things a cop, or a CSI, would see._

_So it was decided._

_Len would need to draw the kid to him, play the saviour. He would most likely not win Allen over_ completely _, but enough to use him._

_**_

_Well…_

_Fuck._

_Yeah, that was pretty much the only word Len could think of to describe the situation._

_Len had seen pictures of this damn kid. He knew how fucking pretty that little shit was. Len just wasn’t prepared for…him. How nice he was._

_As soon as their cell opened and they were forced to leave it, Barry was quiet and subdued, he didn’t stray from Lens side. He kept a tight grip on Lens pocket at all times and never spoke a word without being spoken to. If they were at the far end of the yard, where it was just the three of them, he was a little more…uppity. He even laughed a little now and then._

_But when they were alone in their cell, Barry was kind and sweet. He didn’t talk much then either, but once he got going…he wouldn’t shut up. Len found himself enjoying it though; listening to Barry talk about everything and nothing at all was comfortable. Len could almost pretend they weren’t sitting in a prison cell._

_This wasn’t good. The kid was as close to being a cop as he could get without a badge and a gun. Yes, he seemed to have grown…attached to both Len and Mick, but that was no guarantee on how things would be when they got out. If the kid even wanted to come with them. Len guessed he would. If Len had been in Barry’s shoes, he would have wanted to get out of that place as quickly as possible, legally or illegally._

_Len…he liked the kid. He knew Mick did too. He was supposed to be another mark, but he had carved himself a space inside their heads._

_This was a road to hell, and Len found it impossible to resist the urge to keep walking._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINISHED! I HAVE FINALLY COMPLETED THIS THING!  
> I'm gonna try to post as many of the chapter as I can right now, but I need to leave for my graduation ceremony soon so yeah. If I don't get all of them up, I'll post the rest tonight!  
> <3


	13. Just Gimme My Ticket to Hell

_Title from: High Tide Rising, by Fox_

 

“You sure you wanna do this?” Len asked.

Barry exhaled, taking slow and steady breaths. He buttoned his shirt with shaky hands.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Barry said. “My rap sheet is the shortest, I’m least known, and I know how cops work.”

He slid the glasses over his nose, shifting them slightly until he found a comfortable spot.

It was just a grocery run. After the break out, they had been laying low for a few days just as planned. But another mouth to feed had been added to the plan so hastily that the supplies at the safe house were running low. Barry may have indulged a little more than necessary. Anything for a chance to get away for a while.

There had been a big argument about who should go; everyone had offered, but Barry had made the decision for them and he wasn’t going to back down. This would be his first chance to get in contact with Joe or Singh, or anyone. Barry’s face was plastered all over the news, but he needed to actually speak to them. He needed to let them know that he was alright, and that the mission was progressing pretty much perfectly.

Len had forced Barry into a disguise; a blonde wig, a fake beard, and the glasses. That, along with how swollen his face still was from his injuries, Barry looked nothing like himself. The wig was uncomfortably tight around his head, and the beard was itchy as hell, but it was a must. Barry still had to play things as if he was on their side, and on the run from the world.

For all intents and purposes, he was. He was on the run. If anyone other than Joe or Singh recognized him, he would be tossed right back into prison.

“There.” Barry said as he placed a red baseball cap on his head. “How do I look?”

Mick snorted at him. “Ridiculous.” he said with a smirk.

Barry smiled. It was true. He looked like shit, but it was good enough. Len loaded him with a wad of cash, a fake ID, and a set of car keys, then sent him out the door.

**

It was dark out, which was good. Barry parked far up the street from home. There would be a squad car watching the place; whoever was in the car would arrest him the moment they recognized him.

Barry snuck into Mrs. Greenberg’s yard, their neighbour. She was ninety years old, half-deaf, and blind as a bat; there was no risk of her catching him. He scaled the wooden fence that separated their backyards, dropping nearly soundlessly into Iris' tulips. Barry felt a bit bad for crushing the bright pink flowers.

He was over it in a second though, and ran across the grass up onto the back porch. The key was still hidden under the potted plant standing near the door; Joe was a cop so he should really have known better, but Barry digressed.

The kitchen was almost pitch black when Barry came inside. He took a deep breath in through his nose. It smelled like home. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that smell.

“Freeze!”

Barry did as he was told, hands half raised.

The lights came on with a click.

Joe stood on the threshold to the living room, dressed in his pyjamas with his gun in his hands.

“Joe. It’s me.” Barry said.

He was surprised at how his own voice sounded. It was different than it had ever been before.

Joe stared at him for a moment; it was like he was mentally peeling away the disguise, before he lowered his gun.

“Oh, God, it’s good to see you, Barr.” Joe said, almost exhaling the words, as he walked over and pulled his boy into his arms.

Barry hugged him just as tight, ignoring the pain from all his bruises. He didn’t know how long they stood there and Barry didn’t care; he was home again. Just for a little while, but it was enough. It was enough to be back home and smell it and feel it under his feet and all around him.

They sat down in the living room.

“How are you, Barr?” Joe asked. “You look like a mess.”

Barry nodded slowly, taking the glasses off. “Yeah. There was a fight, and…” he said but couldn’t bring himself to continue.

“I know.” Joe said, sympathy painted all over his face. “We heard.”

“What happened with the guards?” Barry asked, changing the subject. “I hope no one got hurt too bad.”

He was thankful that Joe didn’t argue with him on it.

“A few are in the hospital.” Joe said. “But…there were a few casualties.”

Barry’s eyes fell closed. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He had hoped no one would have to die for this mission.

“How many?”

“Barry, it’s not your fault.”

_“How many?”_

Joe exhaled heavily. Barry could almost see him shaking his head, though Barry’s eyes were still closed.

“Three.” Joe said.

Barry’s head fell back against the pillows and he sighed.

“Shit.” he said softly.

He darted out of his seat, kicking the coffee table.

“Shit!” he yelled.

Joe followed him quickly, grabbing his arms to stop him. “Barry! Barry, calm down!” he said. “Calm down!”

Barry ripped himself out of Joes hands and shoved him back. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down, Joe?!” Barry hissed, strikingly aware of the officers outside. “Those guards are dead because of me! This was supposed to protect people, and all it’s done is get people hurt!”

But Joe wasn’t deterred. He followed Barry still.

“Barry, I know this is hard on you.” he said. “But those guards knew what they were risking when they started there. I know how it sound, Barr, but it’s true. And they would’ve gotten hurt anyway, when Snart and Rory broke out. It wasn’t your fault.”

Barry breathed as deeply as he could, but his whole body was shaking. He hated this. He hated all of it. People were getting hurt, _killed_ , and Barry still wasn’t anywhere near done with his mission.

He just wanted it to end. He just wanted things to go back to normal!

Barry scrubbed his hands over his face.

He had to stay focused. If he just stayed focused, this could be over quickly.

“Okay.” Barry said. “Okay, okay, okay. What now? What do I do?” 

**

Barry returned to the garage/safe house laden with grocery bags. Thank God for 24/7 supermarkets. He marched into the improvised kitchenette, where the whole gang joined him after a minute.

As they began to put things away, Barry sat down.

His left eye chafed. Joe had said the lens would be uncomfortable at first. Some guy, Cisco or something, from S.T.A.R. Labs had developed it specially for Barry’s mission. That, and the microphone glued to his bottom lip. It was just a few millimetres thick, laying over his lip like a coating of gloss. Both pieces transmitted to the precinct, where the footage and the audio were stored.

It was uncomfortable, but it was the only way to gather physical evidence. Barry’s witness statement wouldn’t be enough to get a conviction. There had to be an actual confession of a crime.

“Barry.”

He looked up, eyes catching the concerned look on Lens face.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” Len asked.

Mick hummed behind Len. “Yeah. Seem off, kid.” he said. “Somethin’ wrong? Did somethin’ happen?”

“What?” Barry asked, momentarily confused.

He came to his senses again with the blink of his eyes, the lens chafing against his eyelid.

“No, I’m fine.” he said. “I just…”

Len slid into the seat beside Barry, and Mick did the same across from him. As if sensing that she was somehow intruding, Lisa exited quietly to give them a moment to themselves. Barry’s stomach turned when Len took his hand.

Not because of Len, though. Because of himself.

“What is it, Barry?” Len asked. “You can talk to us.”

Barry swallowed dryly.

He pulled out of Lens hand. He freed his head from the wig and peeled the beard from his face, then dug into the inside pocket of his jacket. From said pocket, he removed the flier Joe had given him.

He lay it on the table, sliding it over to Len.

 _“'The Oppenheimer Blue comes to Central City_ '?” the criminal read, big blue letters practically screaming at him.

Barry nodded. “It opens in two weeks.” he said. “And it’s not only the Oppenheimer. It’s a whole load of shiny rocks worth a fortune.”

“And?” Len said, sliding the flier back to Barry.

“Len.” Barry said, begging the man by just saying his name. “You could do it. _We_ could do it.”

Len shook his head. “No. Two weeks is too little time.” he said. “I’d need months for this. It’s too big. We just got out and if we try this, we’ll go right back in.”

 _Fuck_ , c’mon, Len, you stubborn asshole! Just say _yes_!

Barry needed the big guns.

Sad thoughts, sad thoughts, sad thoughts!

Before he even knew it, Barry’s eyes were welling up. The criminals were on high alert in an instance. Mick somehow moved around the table in the blink of an eye, lifting Barry and stealing his chair; Barry was sat on his lap instead, his head down against Micks heart.

“What’s the matter, Barr?” Mick asked, sounding kinder than Barry was certain he had ever heard.

He wiped his eyes, drying the tears away.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s stupid.” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter.”

“’Course it does, doll.” Mick said. “What’s got you so upset? You can tell us.”

Len scooted his chair closer, laying his hands on Barry’s leg. “He’s right, Barry. You can tell us anything.” he agreed. “Whatever’s on your mind.”

“I…” Barry attempted, but stopped to formulate the words in his head. “I wanna get out of here. This city, the country. I just wanna _go_. So much shit has happened here. My mom and my dad, and the gambling and prison. I saw it out there. Everyone hates me.”

“Barry, no one ha-” Len tried.

“ _But they do_!” Barry said, the tears coming again and now he wasn’t sure whether he was a damn good actor or it was real. “They hate me for what I did! I just thought that if we did this and got away, I could go! I could go somewhere where I’m not _'Barry Allen, son of a murderer and betrayer of friends'_! Where…where I can just be Barry again. And that’s all I want. I just wanna be Barry again.”

Mick hugged him.

Len held his hand.

Barry cried.

They agreed to do the job.


	14. It’s a Hell of a Feeling Though

_Title from: Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time, by Panic! At The Disco_

 

The garage had a few backrooms, one of which Len had turned into a bedroom as soon as he got his hands on it. It wasn’t much; a king-size bed, and two rickety old nightstands he bought at a yard sale for five dollars.

It wasn’t much, but Barry liked it. Even so far from home, when he lay there between Mick and Len, he felt comfortable. That kind of comfortable you only ever got in your own home, _in your own bed_. It was because of them, he was sure. He knew now that they would protect him with their lives, and honestly? He would do the same for them.

“What’re you thinking about?” Len whispered.

Barry could barely see him in the dark room; he could just make out the outline of his body against the low streetlights coming in through the dirty windows.

“This.” Barry responded. “I like it. Feels like…home.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Barry.” Len said. “I’m glad we make you feel that way.”

Barry smiled to himself. “I am too.” he said.

 _I think_ , he added in his mind.

Barry blinked slowly at Len, savouring the feeling. He had taken the lens out for the night, and removed the lip mic. It was Joe's advice; Barry supposed Joe thought Mick and Len might get… _ frisky _ , and it was best to avoid any chance of the lip mic falling off or them noticing the slight change in the color of Barry's eye. Honestly, though, Barry was just glad he could blink without it feeling as if his eyelid was being sliced in half.

Mick sighed, seemingly having been woken up by their quiet talking.

“Everythin’ okay?” he asked, voice tired.

Barry shuffled over onto his other side so he could face Mick.

“Perfect.”

The kiss Barry placed on Micks jaw was soft and tentative, uncertain. The ones he felt Len lay on Barry’s back were not; they were determined, yet…gentle. As if he thought Barry would break into a million pieces at the slightest wrongful touch.

“Barry, we should talk about what happened to you.” Len said.

Barry tensed up at the mere thought.

“What?” he said softly.

Len kissed his back again. “We should talk about it. It was an awful thing, and I, we want to help you handle it.” he explained.

Barry shrugged, shaking Lens next kiss off himself. “And if I _don’t_ wanna talk about it?” he said.

Mick shuffled a little closer and lay his big arm over both of them. “Then you don’t have to.” he said. “But if you change your mind, we’ll be right here to listen to ya, Barr.”

Barry nodded after a moment. He let Len wrap his arms around him too and they cuddled up close to the broad expanse of Micks chest. Barry should not have like it as much as he did, and he knew that. He shouldn’t have liked laying there between Mick and Len.

He shouldn’t have liked the way Micks heartbeat sounded to his ears.

He shouldn’t have liked the way Lens hands were running soft circles over his chest.

He shouldn’t have liked how he felt when he was around them.

But he did. He liked it. _He loved it._

Barry loved how his heart sped up when they entered the room. Barry loved how his head started spinning when he saw them. Barry loved how their hands felt on him.

“Barry.” Len whispered.

Barry craned his neck to look over his shoulder as best he could.

“Do you…want us to take care of you?” Len asked.

The hand on Barry’s chest moved a little lower, stopping just at his hip.

“Make you feel good?” Mick added.

The arsonist pressed chaste kisses to the side of Barry’s head, his hot breath nearly burning Barry’s ear.

The words wouldn’t leave his throat, so Barry simply nodded. Their voices were soft as they instructed Barry to lay on his back and spread his legs a little. Len and Mick lay on their sides, boxing Barry in. They watched him with…something in their eyes. Something that Barry had never seen before. Their hands were on his chest. As Len circled his index finger over Barry’s left nipple, Mick moved his hand lower. The feather-light touches of his fingers made Barry shudder.

They nuzzled into Barry neck; kissing, biting, and scraping their teeth over his skin. He moaned when Len pinched his nipple, and it became a choked whine when Mick finally grasped Barry’s cock. The callouses and small burn scars on Micks hand gave for an…incredible feeling. The marks rippled over Barry’s soft and sensitive skin, burning in just the right way.

The men shuffled around Barry for a moment; Mick moved to lay between Barry’s legs, mouthing at the kid’s thighs, while Len straddled Barry’s midsection.

Barry couldn’t help but sigh softly at the feeling, when Len sucked a bruise on his neck and Mick tongued at his opening. Micks tongue darted into Barry’s hole, opening him just slightly before sliding a finger into him.

“Ah, shit…” Barry swore, the dull ache of being stretched even that little.

Len leaned back from him for a moment. He searched around in the drawer of the nightstand, and found a bottle of lube that he handed off to Mick. The arsonist withdrew his finger, slicking it up before he attempted it again.

It was cold, and the stretch still stung, but Barry knew. He knew it would feel good as soon as he was stretched enough.

Len toyed with Barry’s nipples, licking and nipping at them, and rocked his hips against Barry’s at a torturously slow pace. Mick’s fingers moved just as slow, twisting and crooking, opening him up in a surprisingly gentle way.

Barry should have stopped that by then, he supposed; stopped thinking Mick and Len were just a pair of homicidal maniacs, when they were… _so much more_ , more than Barry could possibly have imagined.

Len moved off of him, and settled by Micks side.

Barry keened when Len lapped at Barry’s cocks, kitten-licks at the tip tasting the precum. Len took the head into his mouth and suckled at it for a moment, as Mick began to lick along the shaft. Barry had never felt anything like it. He was being pelted with so many different sensations at once, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He couldn’t process all this goodness at once.

Len found one of Barry’s hands and intertwined their fingers. Mick stopped and pulled back for a moment, allowing Len to take in as much of Barry as he could. When Mick instead moved down to work Barry’s hole with his tongue too, Barry couldn’t stop his hand from jerking out and landing on the arsonists head.

“Fuck,” Barry whined, cheeks nearly _glowing_ red. “-Len, I’m gonna…God, you’re so good, fuck.”

Len pulled off of him, licking his lips, and wrapped his free hand around Barry’s cock instead. It was with a few quick strokes that Barry came. He would’ve sworn he blacked out for a moment, the explosion of ecstasy filling his entire body. He would have, but he couldn’t because he was preoccupied with watching his cum spray over Lens face.

Lens mouth was wide open, waiting dutifully as Barry came. He seemed to revel in it, the feeling of Barry’s cum hitting him. He licked his lips for it eagerly and lapped up what he could reach. Mick retracted both tongue and fingers from Barry, sitting up on his knees. Len sat up as well, and…and Barry watched, heart pounding and breaths ragged, them kiss with a fervour that he had never seen before.

There was so much love there between the two, something far beyond what Barry had expected. Something far deeper.

Mick pulled out of the kiss to lick a long stripe of cum from Lens cheek, then went right back to his lips. Fuck, Barry had never seen anything as hot; Len with cum slowly trickling down his face, swapping the same back and forth in a kiss with Mick.

“Come here.” Barry said.

His voice was low and a little raspy, no doubt from the noises he had made before. The two stopped for a moment to look at their third.

“Mick. Lie down.” Barry said. “Len, sit here.”

They did as they were told; Mick laid down on his back, Len sat beside him, and they waited for Barry to do whatever he wanted.

“I…” Barry said, hesitance evident.

He sat near the foot of the bed. His whole body was flushed red.

“It’s alright, Barry.” he said. “You don’t have to do anything for us. We wanted to do this for _you_. We never expected anything in return.”

Mick nodded along with him, sitting up. “'S true, Barr.” he agreed. “You don’t need to do anythin'. We just wanted to make you feel good. That’s all the reward we need, kid. Knowin’ we made you happy.”

A smile filled Barry’s lips.

Yes. Of course. Yes.

This! _This_ was what he loved! This was what he loved about them! They just made him feel so good, all the time. Without even trying! Just by being, by existing

“I know.” Barry said. “But I want to. I just…I haven’t really done this in a while.”

Len smiled at him. Fuck, it was a brilliant smile, radiating love and affection.

“If you want to do something, you can. But you absolutely _do not_ have to, Barry.” Len insisted. “And if you mess up, that’s okay.”

“We got all the time in the world, doll.” Mick added, he too smiling. “We can learn and get better.”

Barry exhaled all the nervosity. He was so glad they weren’t expecting anything from him, and that they would understand if he made mistakes. Barry wasn’t really the most experienced person when it came to sex; sure, he had had sex plenty of times, but most of it was with women, so this was still new territory for him.

On Barry’s order, Mick lay back again. Barry crawled over him until he could straddle the arsonists hips. He took a deep breath as he lined himself up, the head pressing against his cheeks. Mick groaned when Barry sank onto him. It took a few seconds, Barry taking it slow, but at last he was fully sheathed in Barry.

“Ah, shit, Barry.” Mick grunted, resisting the urge to buck his hips. “Fuck, so tight, God, so good.”

Barry breathed deeply once, twice, thrice to still the ache. It hurt, but God, it was good. Barry was hard again when he grabbed Lens arm and pulled him closer. Len got the idea and straddled Mick as well, but faced Barry.

They all groaned at the feeling when Barry began to move, fucking himself on Micks cock and against Len.

Barry came first, riding his peak out on Mick and with Lens lips pressed to his.

Len was second, Barry kissing up and down his neck and his hands around their cocks.

Mick was last, fucking into Barry until the kid was quivering with pleasure then cumming inside him.

They fell asleep tangled together in a sticky and disgusting mess, but Barry wouldn’t have had it any other way


	15. Selling My Soul and Changing My Name

_Title from: Under and Over It, by Five Finger Death Punch_

 

“Len, you sure you wanna do this?” Mick asked.

Len sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Too late to back out now.” he said.

Lisa stood close by his side. She was putting on a brave face but Len saw through it. She was terrified and, in all honesty, he was too. It was a bad idea. They knew that, all of them. But if they were going to get ready in time for the opening of the exhibit, they would need him.

Barry slipped in to stand between Len and Lisa, taking either of their hands. Len squeezed his hand, silently thanking him, and Lisa took a deep breath. Barry knew he didn’t have her full trust, not that he deserved it, but she seemed to appreciate the gesture.

The door into their safe house opened, and Lewis Snart stepped in.

He looked just like the pictures Barry had seen. Barry was afraid, even just after reading about him. About what he had done to Len and Lisa, about all the people he had hurt.

But it was good.

Barry’s target had finally entered the stage. Now all he had to do was keep things up until Joe signalled him. And when Joe did, it would be over and Barry could go home.

“Let’s skip the welcome party.” Len said as Lewis approached them. “We don’t have much time.”

The old man laughed in a way that made Barry’s stomach turn.

“C’mon, Len. Least you can do is introduce me to your new toy.” he said, eyes fixed on Barry.

Barry was brave. He was a very brave CSI, who was doing his job.

He stepped out from between the siblings and offered Lewis his hand.

“Barry Allen.” he said.

Lewis huffed, but shook his hand. “Lewis Snart.” he said. “Tell me. Were you a fag before prison or did the boys in there turn you around? So to speak.”

Barry was…caught off guard by the question.

“Lewis.” Len said sharply.

The old man laughed, and it sounded just as disgusting as Barry had expected.

“Just playin’!” Lewis 'defended'.

“How about we just get this over with?” Mick said, taking a big step closer to Lens side. “So we can all go our separate ways again.”

“I agree.” Len said.

He took Barry by the shoulder and pulled him back, away from Lewis. Mick lead the crew further into the garage, to the kitchen. They sat down around the table in a tense silence.

“Did you get what I asked for?” Len asked his father.

The old man set his duffle bag down and pulled a cardboard pipe from it. Barry watched closely. There was a set of blueprints in the pipe, Barry quickly recognized the layout of the Central City Museum. He had been there a million times but he had never before seen it like this; as just a set of schematics, as a cog in a bigger machine.

“We’ll need to scope it out, get a look at how they’re settin’ this new exhibit up.” Lewis said. “Other than that? Piece o' cake.”

“I can go.” Barry said. “I know the museum. I could walk it in my sleep.”

Len shook his head. “You don’t know what to look for.” he said. “I’ll go.”

Mick snorted. “Yeah, and get your ass arrested 'fore you get through the front door.” he muttered.

“I’ll go with Barry.” Lisa said then. “He knows the museum and I know what to look for. We’ll play dress-up, get a stroller and a fake baby bump. No one’s gonna bother a pregnant woman.”

Len didn’t seem to like that idea either, but Lewis vetoed him without even saying a word. All it took was a sleazy smirk and a nod, and it was settled. It was…unsettling; Len was a typical alpha male, Barry supposed, but as soon as Lewis had entered the picture, Len seemed to shrink. Even the way he looked seemed different. It was as if he was drawing his shoulder down, arms close to his body, and eyes cast down.

It was unnerving to see him like that.

**

This was a bad, bad, bad idea.

Not just what they were about to do, but all of it. None of it would end well.

Lisa had a tight grip on Barry’s arm, the other hand resting on her big belly. The stroller Barry pushed was covered by a blanket, giving the illusion that the 'child' was sleeping. They looked like a young, happy family. Barry in his blonde wig and Lisa in hers, one baby in the stroller and another on the way.

They moved through the museum slowly. They had all the time in the world. There weren’t a lot of people, but enough to blend with. Lisa scanned the security measures, taking mental notes of everything. Barry watched the people. He had to keep his eyes and ears open for any sign of suspicion. If they were caught at the museum, the job would be fucked and everything Barry had worked for would be in vain.

“I need to grab a smoke.” Barry said as they sauntered through the geology exhibit.

“Nervous?” Lisa asked.

Barry nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never done anything like this before.” he said. His palms were so sweaty he was almost losing his grip on the stroller. “Worst thing I ever did before all this was eat the last cookie and blame my sister. Even _then_ I got caught.”

Lisa smiled, patting him on the arm. “It’s okay, Barry. Len really cares about you. Mick too.” she said. “They won’t let anything happen to you.”

He exhaled softly, squeezing the hand she had on his arm. “Thanks, Lisa.” he said.

“And if things do go bad,” she said, her voice a little lower. “-just stay close to me. I’ll watch your back if you watch mine.”

Barry smiled. “I promise.” he said and held up his pinkie finger.

Lisa smiled too as she hooked her pinkie with his. They pulled back with a short snap, and the promise was sealed. Barry just hoped she wouldn’t hate him for what he was doing. He kissed her cheek, acting as the loving husband, before hurrying away to find his way back to the exit.

Barry lit a cigarette as soon as he came outside. He jogged over to the line of payphones near the corner of the building, snatching a phone off the hook and dropping a quarter in.

“Captain Singh.”

“It’s Barry.” he said quickly.

“One second.” Singh said. “Get out! Out!”

Barry smiled to himself. He would give anything just to be the one being thrown out of the Captains office.

“Barry, is everything okay?” Singh asked quickly. “Joe told me you were a mess when you came by.”

Barry nodded to himself, dragging on his smoke. “It’s okay. I’m good. Everything’s going good.” he said. “They took the bait. Lewis is here, and I’m casing the museum with Lisa. I got away for a minute. Thought I should update you.”

Singh sighed on the other end, the phone crackling. “You need to be careful, Barry. Lewis Snart is a dangerous man. More so than his son or Rory.” he said. “You shouldn’t be calling. If anyone sees you, Barry…”

“I know, I know.” Barry said. “That’s why I wanted to call. Can you…can you get a message to my dad?”

“Sure. Anything.” Singh said.

“Just tell him I’m okay. I know he’s worried about me, but tell him I’ve got things under control. Just…please just tell him not to worry.” Barry said. “And that I’ll quit smoking as soon as this is over.”

“I’ll let him know.” Singh said. “Be careful, Barry. Okay? If things get hairy, _just bail_. Don’t worry about the case, that’s not important. Just bail as quick as you can and run as far as you can.”

Barry dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe. “I will.” he said and threw the phone back on the hook.


	16. The Best Part of Believe is The Lie

_Title from: Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year, by Fall Out Boy_

 

There was less than a week left until the exhibit opened. Three days. No, two. It was past midnight, Barry realized when he glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

God, he was going to be sick.

He hated himself.

Never mind how this made him feel though. What about Mick and Len and even Lisa? Mick and Len would hate him. He had given so much of himself to them, and they to him. They had told him everything about themselves, revealed their deepest, darkest secrets and desires. All Barry wanted was to give them everything they wanted in life, he wanted so badly to make them happy. But all he was going to do was ruin them, destroy them. They would hate him with all they had. They would never forgive him for this.

Lisa would feel so betrayed. He had promised he would watch her back, and now he was putting a knife in it instead. The, at best, tentative friendship they had formed would be ruined.

What little faith they had in people would probably destroyed forever. Would they _ever_ be able to trust anyone again?

Barry couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t be there for another second, knowing what he was doing to them. Barry crawled out of bed. He was as careful as he could possibly be, not wanting to wake Mick and Len up. He pulled his pants on, stepped into his shoes.

“Hey.”

Barry tensed. His whole body went stiff as a board. He turned around.

Len lay in bed, watching him with bleary eyes and a smile.

“Hey.” Barry whispered.

“Where you going, Barr?” Len asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Barry shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I was gonna grab a smoke. Maybe something to eat.” he lied.

Len nodded. “Okay.” he said. “Are you alright?”

Barry forced a smile onto his face as he walked around and sat down on the side of the bed.

“Yeah. Just nerves.” he lied again. “Go back to sleep.”

He kissed Lens forehead as the man tucked himself back in. Barry grabbed the phone laying on the nightstand before he hurried out of the bedroom.

**

It was cold out. Barry huddled up in his hoodie, which was actually Micks but Barry had kind of stolen it. It smelled like Mick, with hints of Lens deodorant from where he had borrowed it too.

Barry leaned against the side of the building, shoulder against the cold metal. He dialled Joes number on Lens phone. It was a long shot. Joe was probably fast asleep by then, knocked out cold by a day of catching criminals.

“West.” the Detective said in a sleepy voice when he finally answered.

“Joe. It’s Barry.”

“Barry?”

There was the sound of the Detective shuffling around, probably sitting up in his bed.

“Barry, are you okay?” Joe asked quickly.

He sighed.

Why was he even calling? Barry knew exactly what Joe would say, but…God, he just needed someone to talk to without having to lie. For once, in nearly a month, Barry wanted to just _not lie_.

“I can’t do this, Joe.” Barry said, after taking a deep drag on his cigarette. He had barely noticed himself getting caught in their nicotine-clutches. “I thought I could but I can’t. I’m betraying them.”

“Barry, you are not betraying anyone. Rory and the Snarts?” Joe said. “They don’t care about you. Might seem like they do, but trust me, _they don’t._ Barry, you are so close to the finish line. You can do this. I believe in you.”

“Joe, they _love_ me.” Barry bit at him. “Len loves me, Mick loves me, and Lisa…well, she _likes_ me at least and she trusts me. If I do this, they’ll never forgive me.”

Joe scoffed. “So? They’ll be in solitary confinement for the rest of their lives, if we’re lucky. After the trials, you won’t ever see them again. Who _cares_ if they forgive you or not?” he said.

He obviously didn’t.

“ _I care_. I’m the one who’s doing all the work.” Barry said. He barely noticed raising his voice at the Detective. “I’m the one who was two seconds away from being _raped_! I’m the one who’s been lying since the start! I’m the one who’s _selling his soul!_ _I_ , am the one who is handing the people _I love_ over to the police on a silver fucking platter, Joe! _I fucking care_!”

The door a few paces behind him closed with a metallic slam. Barry turned on his toes, heart having jumped into his throat.

“Barry.”


	17. The Shrine of Your Lies

_Title from: Take Me to Church, by Hozier_

 

“Barry.”

Oh, God…

Len stared at him. The look on his face was one of _utter betrayal_.

“Len.”

“What was that?” Len asked.

His voice was frightening. It was…empty. There was no emotion in it.

“Len, please, just let me explain.” Barry said.

Len took a deep breath.

“Better be _damn good_ explanation.”

He stormed back into the garage, and Barry ran after.

 _God, no. No. Please. Please don’t make him do this_. Fuck, Barry could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and he didn’t really want to stop them.

He wanted to go back in time. He wanted to go back and kick his own ass, punch himself in the face for even considering to agree to this fucking 'mission'. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he let himself _fall for his ‘targets’?_ All Barry wanted was to protect people, and it had just lead him into this complete fucking mess.

Len held the door to the bedroom open for him, eyes searing through Barry’s skin. Mick sat up, awoken by the commotion, when they entered. He seemed confused, by how distraught Barry looked and by the stony mask that Len wore.

“What’s goin’ on?” Mick asked.

Barry was shaking, head to toe. He hated this! Why was the Universe _forcing_ him to do this? Why was he being forced to _destroy_ this, what they had together?

Barry took a deep breath. Len stood by the door, arms crossed over his bare chest. The dark sweatpants hung low on his hips, and dragged the floor where the legs were to long for him. Mick sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a sheet. They were both watching him; Len looked… _pissed_ , and Mick, who hadn’t been there for the tail-end of Barry’s call, simply looked tired and a little confused.

“Just…just please hear me out before you get mad.” Barry pleaded.

Mick shrugged. “Okay.” he said.

Barry took another deep breath, hoping it would still his nerves but it did no such thing. He shuffled over to the bed, and sat down beside Mick.

“I’m…I’m not a gambler.” Barry said. “I’d never counted cards until a few weeks ago. I was undercover in the prison, and I was supposed to get close to you but I-” Mick shot up, beginning to pace around the room, and Len looked to be swallowing his rage. “Mick! Len! Please just listen!”

Mick stopped and pointed an accusing finger at the kid. “ _You’re a fucking cop_?” he hissed.

“Mick, I-” Barry attempted.

“ _Answer the goddamn question_ , Barry.” Len interrupted, storming across the room to stand beside Mick. “Are. You. A cop?”

“I…no, I’m still just a CSI,” Barry said softly. He couldn’t bear to look at them, to see the betrayal and the anger and pain in their eyes. “-but they wanted me to go because I was easy to sell. To the media, to you.”

Mick let out an enraged growl, looking as if he wanted to punch something.

“So you were just _playing us?”_ he yelled then. “Waitin’ until you got enough intel 'fore you could call in your buddies on us?!”

“No! No, Mick, no!” Barry tried to assure as he got up.

He tried to take Micks hand but Mick pulled away as if Barry was a leper. Fuck, Barry couldn’t take this! It was too much. The tears flooded his eyes and poured down his cheeks.

“You weren’t the target! I never meant to hurt you!” Barry said, following as they backed away from him. “Either of you! Please, Lenny!” he pleaded.

“Don’t call me that!” Len shouted at him, actually shoving him back. “We weren’t the target?! _Then who was?!”_

“Lewis!” Barry yelled back. “They wanted enough to put him away for life and _you_ were the best way in!” he explained, pointing at Len.

“Oh, so you were just _using me?”_ Len asked but the question answered itself. “Just a means to an end?!”

They both looked so completely disgusted by him. Barry’s chest hurt, as if his heart was literally breaking inside him.

Len scoffed at Barry, turning away like he couldn’t stand to even just look at him.

“Len! Len, I’m sorry!” Barry begged and tried to follow him. “Please! I didn’t-”

Mick was suddenly there between them; he grabbed Barry by the arm to stop him. The grip was so tight it hurt, but Barry couldn’t feel a thing.

“ _Get out_.” Mick bit through gritted teeth, shoving Barry back towards the door.

Barry couldn’t leave like that! He couldn’t! He had to make them understand! He never wanted this! He had never in a million years planned to hurt them that way.

“Len, I-” Barry tried again and pushed back against the barrier of Mick.

But Mick would have none of it.

Barry didn’t even see it coming. He didn’t realise what had happened until he was on the floor, his right cheek _burning_ with pain. Mick was there again; Barry felt Mick grab him by the sweater and the arm and anything he could get a hold of. Mick almost literally dragged him to the door, Barry stumbling along because there was no other choice.

“Get out!” Mick shouted as he threw Barry out of the bedroom they had shared.

Barry tumbled to the concrete floor in a mess of his own limbs. He tried. He tried so hard to get up right away. It wasn’t until Mick pulled him up that Barry could get back on his feet.

“ _Go_.” Mick bit.

There was fire in his eyes. Rage, hate, and every bad feeling in the world seemed to exist in him all at once in that moment.

“You are _lucky_ I don’t kill you.”

Barry’s voice was scared and broken when it came out of him.

“I-I-I'm sorry.” he stammered.

The last thing he remembered before he was shoved into the back of a police car was running as if his life depended on it.

And maybe it had.

Maybe if he had stood rooted to the concrete for just a moment longer, Mick would have actually killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was legit emotionally draining to write. Fuck, man, I’m sorry about this one :(


	18. I'm Not Blood of Your Blood

_Title from: Salvation, by Five Finger Death Punch_

 

Barry’s cheek still hurt. His arms too, from where Mick had grabbed him.

He was in protective custody. Until Lewis and… _the others_ were apprehended, Barry would still be a criminal in the eyes of the world.

Joe and Singh had both been…disappointed when Barry told them about everything that had happened. Barry was just grateful that Joe seemed to have forgotten referring to Mick and Len as people he loved.

Barry took a long drag on his cigarette. He hated the taste, ash and burned paper, that filled his mouth. Still though, it calmed him somehow. Maybe it was the memory of sitting in the yard at Iron Heights, passing a cigarette around the three of them when they were running low. Or the memory of rolling out of bed in the morning and pulling on the first pair of pants he found, then going out to grab a smoke only to find either Mick or Len already out there with a cigarette between their lips. Or the short puffs after a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Get back inside, Barry.” Joe said as he came out onto the porch of the house Barry was contained to. “You can’t be out here.”

Barry exhaled a lungful of smoke. “Why not? Mick and Len don’t care about me, right?” he said without looking up. “Why would they come after someone they don’t care about?”

He sat on the steps down to the yard, bare feet cold from the dewy grass. It was early. Or late, depending on how you looked at it. After…everything, Barry had spent the rest of the night debriefing with Singh and Joe. He had arrived at the house just an hour, and some change, ago. He had already smoked half a pack. If something was going to kill him, it may as well be the cigarettes.

“You made me do this.” Barry said bitterly and crushed the cigarette into the dirt by his toes. “You realize that, right?”

“Barry, no one _made_ you do anything.” Joe said. “We all tried to talk you out of it, but you insisted.”

Barry was out of his seat before Joe had even finished his sentence. “Of course I insisted!” he hissed. “You knew I would! How could I say no? How could I possibly say no to a chance, just _a chance_ , of putting a monster away for life?” Barry shouted. “A man who abused his wife and his kids for no reason?! Who’s killed people, for no reason?! You knew as soon as you decided on me that I’d say yes! That’s just the kind of person I am, right?! The goody two shoes who just wants to save the whole fucking world?!”

“Barry-” Joe tried.

He looked upset, but Barry just couldn’t find it himself to care at the moment.

“No, you know what?” Barry said flatly. “I think I’d like someone else here. Someone who didn’t completely ruin my life, y'know?”

He headed indoors, the door slamming behind him and leaving Joe outside.

**

Barry was surprised there was anything left of his fingers he’d been biting his nails so much. It was a nervous habit he had tried to shake since childhood. Now he was far too on edge to think about the downsides of nail-biting.

There had been no signs of Len backing out of the heist. Len was smarter than that, he really was. Barry hoped to God that Len realized how dangerous this heist had become. He knew Barry was undercover with them, so he would obviously understand that Barry would have to tell the police every single detail of the plan. Len had to stand down. _He had to_. Barry didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t, if Len pig-headedly pushed on and went through with it.

He would get them all killed; himself, Mick, Lisa.

_They would all die and it would be Barry’s fault._

**

Len knew this was a bad idea. Going through with the plan after Barry turned on them? They would have the full force of the CCPD on them before they even started the damn heist.

But he had gotten Mick to stay quiet about Barry. Lisa and Lewis didn’t know. They thought Barry had left to prepare their 'post-heist hideout'. Lisa had been suspicious of the notion as soon as Len told them, but she didn’t argue. Lewis was just glad he _'didn’t have to deal with another fag for a while',_ and he had said so several times.

Len wanted nothing more than to punch him in the throat. He wanted to. But he couldn’t. Lewis would be too strong. He would knock Len on his ass before he could land the first swing. What came next wouldn’t be pleasant; at least not for anyone but Lewis himself.

So he didn’t.

Len stayed quiet as Lewis went on another tirade about how _'the fags are ruining this country'._ They just had to bear it for a little longer. A few more days, then Len and Mick would be rich enough to retire on some beach somewhere, with Lisa probably tagging along.

They could run away and pretend their lives in Central City never happened.


	19. I Love an Evil Man, I Love His Evil Plan

_Title from: Play with Fire, by Kontrust_

 

Barry was up at six on the day of the heist. He didn’t eat, he didn’t drink. He bit his nails and smoked his cigarettes.

His supervising Detective, Thawne something or other, Barry had forgotten already, seemed worried about him. Probably on Joes behalf. He even cooked solely for the sake of getting Barry to eat something. He served a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, with a glass of juice and toast on the side.

Barry went out for a smoke.

**

Mick and the Snart family was up at six on the day of the heist. They ate a filling breakfast, which Lewis washed down with several bottles of beer. They went over the plan four times to make sure it was perfectly timed.

Len tinkered with his set of lock picks, meticulously organizing them in the leather étui. Lisa flipped through magazines in search of the first thing she would buy with the pay-out, oh-ing and ah-ing over the ornate handguns. Mick cleaned and prepared his flamethrower, filling the extra tanks with propellant and adding them to his bag.

They were all set, and ready to go.

**

It was almost ten o'clock.

Five minutes, and forty-one seconds, until the museum opened.

Twenty minutes, and forty-one seconds, until the heist began.

Twenty minutes, and forty-one seconds, until the loves of Barry’s life went to their deaths.

Twenty minutes, and forty-one seconds, until Barry’s conscience was forever burdened.

Twenty minutes, and forty-one seconds, until Barry’s soul was stained with a guilt equal to murder.

Because it was like murder, wasn’t it?

If it wasn’t for Barry, none of this would ever have happened. If it wasn’t for Barry, Mick and Len would never be walking into a heist that was doomed to end in bloodshed.

Fuck! He just wanted to call them! To go find them and tell them not to do this! To not be stupid and prideful, and admit defeat _just this once_! They could run, and leave the CCPD waiting in vain at the museum.

“How are you, Barry?” Detective whatever asked as he sat down beside Barry on the porch steps.

“Worried.” Barry replied.

“You don’t have to be.” he insisted. “Joe’s a good cop, he’ll be okay.”

“Great.” Barry said. “Not him I’m worried about.”

The Detective didn’t respond to that. Joe had probably told him all about Barry’s infatuation, as they most likely called it; a silly crush, a case of Stockholm Syndrome.

Maybe it was. Maybe Barry had just gotten caught up in his mission and gone a step too far.

But it couldn’t be.

How could these feelings be something so trivial? If Barry felt as if his world ended the moment he was forced to leave the presence of Mick and Len, how could it be something so trivial? If Barry’s entire being ached at the thought of being without them? If Barry felt like he was dying at the thought of never seeing their faces, touch their skin, again?


	20. Came to Start a Riot

_Title from: Raise Hell, by Dorothy_

 

Lens watch beeped.

10:20 AM

The group rushed through the front doors. Lewis and Lisa waved their guns around, corralling the crowd away from the entrance. All the alarms were off, so all they had to do was neutralize the security staff then get to work.

Mick ran to the security station, and got the guards out to sit with the rest of the hostages. A mad laughter echoed through museum for a moment as the whole of the station was set ablaze. Then it went silent. Mick watched the flames, almost entranced by the dancing light.

As long as he was ready to leave when Len was finished, he couldn’t care less what Mick burned.

Len sprinted through the museum halls. He had memorized the path and ran it a hundred times in his head. He passed by a hundred pieces of priceless art. They weren’t what he was looking for. They weren’t what Barr- what _Len_ wanted.

He came to the Oppenheimer exhibit, and withdrew his lock picks from his pocket. The locks on the display cases were child’s play. Len had emptied nearly half the cases by the time…

_Bang!_

_Bang, bang, bang!_

Gunfire. Screaming.

The cops had already busted in. Len wasn’t particularly worried. With all the hostages to use as shields, it was unlikely that anyone of his crew would be injured.

Len grabbed the last few shiny rocks in the case he had been working on. Even without the full exhibits worth of gems, the pay-out would be bigger than they could ever have need of in their lifetimes.

As he ran back towards the noise of gunfire, Lens heart began to speed up. All he could think about was Lisa and Mick, and Barry too for some reason. The image of Barry being there with them, killed by police gunfire, was seared into the back of his eyelids.

Len skid into the enormous entrance hall. He hadn’t even stopped before there was _blinding pain_ in his whole body. He was on the floor in the blink of an eye.

Shit.

_Shit, shit, shit!_

God, they got him. They got him right in the chest and the gut and even the fucking arm, and the floor around him was wet with blood.

It was so loud. Why was the world so extremely loud? His head wad exploding every time a gunshot rang out.

But things went dark after a while. It didn’t seem too bad when he couldn’t see anything. The noises began to quiet, fading into silence.

His body felt quite…numb, by then.


	21. Feel My Tears as They Dry

_Title from: Chandelier, by Sia_

 

Len woke up.

His eyes opened but it was still dark for a moment, as if he was still knocked out. It took a minute, then the world began to…exist around him.

The darkness was illuminated like a dawn, the florescent lights rising like the sun.

Where was he? This wasn’t a place had been before. White walls, white floors, white ceiling, the bed was…he was tied to the bed! Wait…no. He was wearing a strait jacket? Why was he wearing a strait jacket?

Hm, he supposed maybe they had learned their lesson from all the times he had broken out of custody. In a strait jacket, he couldn’t pick locks, couldn’t fight, could barely sit up on his own he guessed.

Lisa would get him out. Or Mick. Maybe even Lewis would deign to help his son.

Wait.

Lisa!

Lens eyes darted around the room. Where was she? Was she okay? Was she hurt? Was she even alive after that shoot out?

_God, please let her be alive. Please, just let her be alive still!_

Len wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ bear it if she wasn’t. If she was gone…how could he live with himself? How could he live with the thought that _he_ had lead his sister, _his baby sister_ , straight to her death? She wasn’t in the same room as him, she had to be somewhere else.

_She had to be._

He was alone it that room, no Lisa and no Mick. They had to be out there, still free. They probably bailed when Len got taken down. They wouldn’t have been able to carry him. Mick would have, easily, but definitively not with the CCPD shooting at them. It would have been the strategically sound thing to do, to leave him there and come back for him when things calmed down. Yes, Mick wasn’t always one to prioritize strategy, but with Lisa to keep him somewhat settled it wouldn’t be long before Len was out of there.

Wherever there was. Thinking back at the heist, he had been shot a few times, so it was a hospital most likely. Going by what passed as interior decorating in that room, it was _definitively_ a hospital.

All Len had to do now, was wait and they would come for him.

He hoped they would at least.

**

Two days since the failed heist, and the successful apprehension of Leonard Snart. Lisa was in the wind, along with Mick. Lewis had died at the museum, choking on the blood filling his lungs.

It had been all over the media.

It was apparently big news that Lewis Snart was dead and his son was close to it as well.

Barry _hated_ himself. This was all his fault.

He wanted to throw up when he walked into the precinct for the first time since his incarceration. Everyone stopped. They looked up from what they were doing, _and cheered_ for him. They applauded him, slapped him on the back and smiled as if he was suddenly their best friend. Barry managed a forced smile at them all before he could slip away to hide in his office.

This was awful.

Len was alive, that much Barry knew and he was unendingly happy about it. Lisa and Mick, though…they were just _gone_.

Mick was hurt. That was what worried Barry the most. Why did he insist on bringing his goddamn flamethrower? Singh had told Barry all about it; Micks bag took a few bullets, enough to penetrate the gas canisters he had in it. The next time he opened fire, quite literally, he was suddenly at the very centre of the explosion. He had broken out of the ambulance and made a run for it.

Lisa was okay, as far as anyone knew. No one had seen her get shot or injured in any other way. She had probably seen the others get hurt, and gotten out of there.

Barry hoped so very dearly that they were both still alive.


	22. Can You Add Colour Inside These Lines?

_Title from: Come Clarity, by in Flames_

 

The gates clanged loudly as they closed behind Barry. That sound had always made him uncomfortable, it was like it got under his skin and picked at his spine.

It was different now though. It didn’t itch at his body in the same way.

He supposed he had gotten used to it.

Barry smiled when he saw his father, even though the man was behind a pane of glass more than an inch thick. They picked up their phones.

“Dad.” Barry said.

“Hey, slugger.” Henry responded. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, dad.” Barry said.

They were back at Iron Heights. Henry had applied for a transfer back as soon as word broke about the escape. He had always insisted on being as close to his son as he could, even if he was in prison.

“How you doin’, kid?” Henry asked. “I’ve been following this whole thing in the news, and I’ve called Joe almost every day.”

Barry smiled as best he could. He could tell it wasn’t very convincing from the look Henry gave him.

“I don’t know.” Barry admitted, running his free hand over his face. “It’s…everything feels all messed up and it’s like I don’t know anything anymore.”

Henry nodded slowly, listening to Barry’s woes.

“I don’t know what to think. I wanna be a CSI, and I wanna help people by catching criminals.” Barry continued. “But…after all this? I’m just not sure anymore. I…I’m in love with them, dad. Both of them. And I know how that sounds and how it looks, and trust me, I hate myself for it because I know who they are and what they’ve done. But I just can’t stop it. Dad, what am I supposed to do?”

Henry smiled softly at him. “You’re divided, son.” he said. “Plain as day, anyone can see it. And for what I think? You need to think about this. Long and hard, until you can decide on something because there won’t be any going back. Either you completely commit to these people, or you completely commit to your job with the police.”

 _“But what should I do?”_ Barry begged. “Just tell me what to do. Please, dad. I just need someone to tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“I can’t tell you that, Barry, and you know it.” Henry said, still smiling with all the love in the world. “This is something only you can decide. But let me tell you this, son. I met your mother when I was in medical school. I was so in love with her, from the first moment I laid eye on her. But I couldn’t have her. My studies demanded too much, and my part-time job took up all the time I had left. But she waited for me. She waited until I was finished with school. Do you know why?”

Barry dried the tears from his cheeks. “Why?” he asked.

“Because she loved me just as much as I loved her.” Henry said. “That’s the thing, Barry. If you love someone, and they love you back, you can make it work. Even if things are pulling you away from each other. Now, I don’t agree with what these guys do or have done in the past. But there has to be some good in them. Otherwise, you wouldn’t love them as much as you obviously do. Barry, I want you to be happy. If they make you happy, you should do what you can to be with them.”

“But…they’re criminals.” Barry said lowly. “Murderers.”

Henry let out a soft sigh. “I know, slugger.” he said. “No one said this was gonna be easy on you. It’s a tough choice. A life-changing choice. But Barry. Listen to me here, kid.” he said, leaning in slightly.

Barry nodded quickly, leaning in just as Henry had.

“I want you to know that no matter what you choose,” Henry said. “-I’ll always love you. I’ll always be proud of you.”

**

What was Barry supposed to do?

He couldn’t leave Len in the hospital. If he did, Len would be locked up in solitary confinement until the day he died.

But he couldn’t get him out either. If he got caught, he would once again be branded a traitor, for real this time, and he wasn’t sure he would survive that.

Why was Barry so goddamn indecisive?

He just wanted to do what was right and what was good, but they weren’t the same thing! The right thing would be letting Len face justice for his crimes, while the good thing would be getting him out of the hospital. Barry couldn’t stand the idea of Len being locked in a cell, alone for twenty-three hours per day. He would go crazy in there.

Yet Len was a bad man. He had hurt people, killed people. He needed to be brought to justice and to answer for his crimes.

Barry went out for a smoke. He just needed to clear his head for a minute.

He sat on the steps in front of the precinct, off to the side where he was well out of the way.

Henry was right. Barry loved Mick, and Barry loved Len. He loved them with his entire being and he hadn’t even noticed it happening until it was already done. Until he was so completely lost for them.

“Hey, d’you hear about Snart?”

Barry snapped out of his head. His eyes darted around until they landed on the two Detectives that stood a little further up the steps. Barry looked away, but kept his ears trained on their conversation.

“Nah, what’d he do now? Break outta the hospital? Wouldn’t fuckin surprise me if he did.”

“No, they got him in a strait jacket and shit. They say he’s good enough to move to Iron Heights. Probably gonna be locked down in the hospital wing for a while, though.”

“Oh, shit, man. When they movin’ him?”

“I heard the day after tomorrow. Day after that, maybe.”

_Oh, no._

Len was already being moved to Iron Heights?

In an instant, the decision was made for Barry.

He was going to free Len, no matter the consequences.


	23. Closer Than My Hands Have Been

_Title from: Jealous, by Labrinth_

 

Barry’s heart was racing.

He was about to break about a hundred laws in less than an hour, when had never broken even one in his life, before meeting Mick and Len. Maybe they were a bad influence on him.

Who cares?

Barry had to do something. He would hate himself forever if he didn’t act when he had the chance. He would never forgive himself if he let Len disappear.

Hope and Mercy Hospital was a daunting sight. It seemed to stretch up into the sky forever. Doctors and nurses were milling about outside, along with patients and visitors. Barry hurried through the crowd, head down and hood up. All he had to do was find his way to the locker rooms then he would have free range of the whole place. Barry had studied the floorplans, but navigating it in real life was harder than he had hoped it would be.

In the end, Barry could slip into the locker room and find a locker belonging to an off-duty doctor. The perks of being associated with the police was that he could easily make pretty much anyone answer any question over the phone; all it had taken was a quick call to the HR department and have them send over the shift schedules for the week, to avoid too much suspicion.

He got the padlock open with two paperclips, making a mental note to thank Len for teaching him that trick, then changed into the doctors scrubs and white coat. Barry left his own clothes in the locker. Once he got Len out, he could go back and get them.

For now, though, Barry clipped his _(forged)_ badge onto his coat. He had been sure to also check the list of people allowed into Lens rooms, sneaking a fake name onto it as not to implicate any innocent doctors or nurses in his scheme.

Barry moved back out into the hall, but ducked back for a moment to allow of a group of technicians to scurry past.

Good. It would take them a while to get everything up and running again.

**

_Barry hoped the city planning office had its papers up to date. Otherwise, he and Len would both be royally fucked._

_Barry had bought a grey jumpsuit, a painter’s garb, and hoped it would let him pass himself off as a technician. Again, if it went any other way, he would be fucked. He had to focus; he couldn’t think too much about that stuff. He had to get this over with before they moved Len._

_He wore the jumpsuit, and the tool belt and hardhat he had ‘borrowed’ from Joes garage. He looked, at least to himself, as the average city worker when he approached the fuse box near the back side of the hospital. It was quite late, so there was no one around. Perfect timing; it was likely that the ‘skeleton crew’ that was the hospital security at night wouldn’t notice until the next day, and then they wouldn’t be able to get any actual technician in until at least after lunch time._

_Barry would have all the time he’d need to free Len._

_He got the fuse box open, and was nearly assaulted by a mess of coloured wires. Hm, someone didn’t do their job properly. Not to worry, though! It would actually help Barry’s cause. The breakage could easily be blamed on lousy workmanship upon installation. Barry checked the wire-colours against the chart he had fished out of an old box at the planning office, and got to work._

_He cut several wires, making sure the attack didn’t look too suspicious, then frayed and stripped the ends. Again, it could be blamed on ‘wear and tear’ as it was._

_Finally, the security system was crippled._

_Cameras were blacked out, and key card scanners were taken out of commission. Barry would literally just walk in, flash his badge, and be granted entrance to wherever he so pleased._

**

Barry found his way to Lens room. He spied from around the corner for a moment. The Officer outside Lens door wasn’t one that Barry recognized. He had to hope that the Officer didn’t know him either, which was a long shot since he had been all over the news.

He hadn’t thought about that.

Oh! Idea!

Barry hurried back in the direction he came from; he could have sworn there was a supply closet somewhere- _there!_ He nearly sprinted at it, but quickly reminded himself of where he was. Deep breath, and walk confidently into the closet. He found the surgical masks after a moment of searching.

With another deep breath, Barry shuffled back towards Lens room. As he walked by a nurse’s station, he snatched up a clipboard and a pen, just to affirm his doctoral status he supposed.

“Stop.” the Officer said, holding his hand up to block Barry. “Let me see some ID.”

“Sure thing, Officer.” Barry said.

He pulled the badge off of his chest and handed it over. The Officer inspected it closely, matching the picture to what he could see of Barry’s face.

“Why are you wearing a mask, Doctor?” the Officer asked.

Barry swallowed dryly, and cleared his throat behind the mask. “We ran some tests on the patient.” he said. “He’s a carrier of…um.” Barry glanced at his empty clipboard, buying himself a moment to think. “A new strand of the H1N1 virus.”

“The what?” the Officer questioned, a disbelieving look on his face.

“The H1N1 virus? The swine flu? The Spanish influenza?” he said. “It’s a new strain. He needs to be studied closely, and treated carefully. He’s _very_ infectious.”

Barry couldn’t fucking believe his own words. He almost wanted to laugh at the stupid lie, made up in the blink of an eye.

 _“Okay.”_ the Officer said.

He checked the registry for Barry’s fake name, then waved him on once he had found it.

Barry once again had to _force himself_ not to run as fast as he could.

And then…

He saw Lens face, and it was if he had been struck by lightning. Barry’s body was electrified; his skin buzzed at the mere sight of Lens icy eyes.

“What’s up, doc?” Len huffed, wiggling slightly in his strait jacket. “Care to tell me where my sister is today?”

Barry came back down to earth, breathing again. He pulled the mask off and stuffed it in his pocket.

“I…I would if I could, Len.” Barry said.

Lens eyes shot up, and fixed themselves on Barry’s face. He was shocked, which was obvious. His eyes were big as saucers, mouth falling open.

“Barry?” he said after a second.

The faux-doctor nodded jerkily. Somehow before he realized it, Barry was right by Lens side, leaning down over him. He placed his lips over Lens, begging him to respond. For a second, Len did nothing. Then, taking all the nervosity off of Barry’s shoulders, Len parted his lips slightly and just let the kiss wash over him.

God, Barry wanted to stay in that moment. He wanted to freeze time so he could stay right there with Len for all eternity. Oh, if only Mick was there with them too. If only Mick was there, with slightly dry lips and calloused hands and strong arms and hot skin.

This had to stop, for now at least. They could do this as soon as they were free of the hospital; as soon as they were alone again.

Barry pulled out of the kiss. Len tried to follow him, but groaned at the pain that burned through his chest at the movement.

“We need to go.” Barry said.

“What?” Len asked, a confused look on his face.

“I’m getting you out of here.” Barry explained as he grabbed Len by the arms to help him sit up. “We can talk about it later. Right now, we need to go.”

Len, though still confused, nodded as Barry began to undo the ties on the strait jacket. His arms and his joints ached so bad from being forced into that awkward position for so long, almost hugging himself.

"Come here." Barry said and dragged Len over to by the door. "I’ll get the guard to come in. Can you knock him out?"

Len nodded again.

Barry put his mask back on and opened the door. Len stood out of sight behind the door, ready to act.

"Officer."

"Is there a problem, doctor?" the policeman asked.

"I need to inspect Mister Snarts wounds." Barry lied again. "I'll need to take off the strait jacket for a few minutes."

The Officer walked into the room when Barry held the door open for him. As soon as he was in, Barry closed it behind him, just in time to watch Len move. Len practically jumped the man, wrapping his arm around his throat. The Officer struggled for a few moments then went limp.

Len lowered him to the floor, checking his pulse as he did.

"He’s alive." he said with a short glance up at Barry.

Barry let out a breath of relief.

"What now?" Len asked as he got back on his feet. "How do we get out of here, kid?"

"Get back in the bed."

Len did as he was told. He didn’t say a word as Barry covered him one of the sheets.

Barry…he stopped for a moment. He pulled the sheet back to look at Len, who opened his eyes and was about to speak when Barry covered his mouth with a latex-clad hand

“Just listen to me for a minute." Barry said quickly to keep Len quiet. "I am _so sorry_ for everything I did to you and to Mick. I know it’s my fault this happened. All of this is my fault and I won’t ever forgive myself. I hate it, I hate that we can _never_ be together and I’m not even sure I’ll survive without you. I love you. _I love you._ I love you with everything I have and I love Mick with everything I have and I’d tell him if he was here but he’s gone.”

Len grabbed him by the wrist, forcing it away from his face. “Mick’s gone? He’s…?” he asked.

The air seemed to get lodged in his throat as he stared at Barry. It couldn’t be true. It _couldn’t!_   Mick couldn’t be gone, never. Mick had lived through worse than that trivial little shoot out, that _certainly_ wasn’t what was going to take him.

Barry shook his head.

“He’s alive. I think.” he said, and Len could breathe again. “The tank on his flamethrower got nicked in the shoot-out and he got caught in the fire. They got him into an ambulance but he broke out on the way to the hospital. No one’s seen him since.” he informed with a dejected look on his face.

“Barry, I-” Len attempted.

“There’s no time.” Barry interrupted. “Someone’ll notice the guards gone soon. We need to go. Lie still.”

Len nodded and let go of Barry’s wrist, allowing him to draw the sheet over his body again.


	24. These Words Are My Heart and Soul

_Title from: With Me, by Sum 41_

 

They came into an empty elevator. The moment the doors closed, Barry pulled the sheet back and Len got up. He had been dressed up in a set of white scrubs, so, for safety, Barry gave him the white coat. No one would question a doctor and an intern moving around the hospital.

Barry lead the way. They moved side by side, but Barry guided Len with soft whispers and tugs on his sleeve.

If he hadn’t been so tense, Len would have slipped his hand into Barry’s. He would have taken Barry’s hand and he would never let go.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed, they stood on the sidewalk down the street from the hospital and Len couldn’t remember how they got there. All he remembered was praying to a God he didn’t believe in that Barry would stay with him; would go with him to wherever he was going now.

“You need to get out of the city for a while.” Barry said.

_You_

_You need to_

Not we. Barry wasn’t coming with him.

“You were always too good for us.” Len said. “Too kind. Always.”

Barry took a deep breath, but it was shaky and unsteady. As if he was about to cry.

“I’m sorry.” he said, not bearing to look Len in the eye.

Len nodded slowly to himself. “I know.” he said. “I am too. We…we should have reacted better. I shouldn’t have let Mick…let him hit you. It was wrong. I know that better than anyone.”

“It’s okay.” Barry said lowly. “He was angry and I know I shouldn’t justify it, but it wasn’t his fault. I know he would never do anything like that if he was in his right mind. If things hadn’t been what they were.”

Barry’s insides hurt. The memories of all that had happened, what he had done and what they had done, _everything hurt him_.

“When you find her, tell Lisa I never meant for any of this to happen.” Barry said to break the silence. “I never meant for _any_ of you to get hurt.”

“I’ll tell her.”

Len watched Barry turn around to leave.

He almost let him. He almost let Barry walk away. He _almost_ let Barry walk away without telling him.

“Wait. Barry.” Len said, grabbing the hem of the kid’s shirt to stop him.

Barry turned back around, looking at Len with wet eyes.

“I love you too. _I love you._ ” Len said, and his voice was so _sincere_ that it almost made Barry want to drop everything and just go with him. “And I know, _I know_ Mick does too.”

_Fuck!_

Len wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Barry so badly, and to dry the tears from his eyes. He wanted nothing more in the world than to just make Barry smile again. If this was the last time they would ever see each other, Len wanted Barry’s smile to be all he could remember of him. He wanted to forget everything; all the lies, and the pain and hurt they had caused each other, and just have the image of Barry smiling burned into his brain.

Barry nodded.

He pulled his shirt out of Lens loose grip and hurried away back towards the hospital.


	25. The Good, The Bad and The Dirty

_Title from: The Good, The Bad and The Dirty, by Panic! At The Disco_

 

Things were different now.

Barry seemed so incredibly heavy with guilt.

He had broken Len out of the hospital, cost a police officer _his job and career_ , and broken about a million other laws while doing so.

Now he was just…heavy and empty at the same time.

“Hey, Barr!” Iris said, a big smile on her face, as she dropped onto the couch beside Barry.

“Hey.” Barry replied lowly.

His fingers itched with the need for a cigarette, but he had sworn to himself he would quit.

“How are you?” Iris asked, laying her hand on his shoulder. “I feel like we haven’t talked in years!”

Barry managed a small smile. “Yeah. I’m just all…weird in the head right now.” he said. “After all this stuff, I think I really need one of our movie nights.”

Iris smiled so sweetly at him, Barry wanted to hug her so tightly for always being completely good all the way through.

“Of course, Barr.” she said. “We can huddle up at your place, get some pizza, some wine, and we can watch whatever movies you want. And I won’t even complain!” she added, which actually made Barry’s smile feel sort of real.

It sounded really nice. It sounded like exactly what he needed. A movie night with Iris, and everything could go back to normal again.

"Are you still going with me to S.T.A.R. Labs? In two months? Remember?" Iris asked.

Barry shrugged. "I don’t know, Iris." he said. "It’s awesome and stuff, but…I don’t think I’m up for any big things like that.

 _"Oh, c'mon!"_ Iris insisted, tugging on his arm. "You’ll hate yourself if you miss this particle…exploding thingy. And just think about it! We can dress up, drink champagne, and you’ll get to mingle with a bunch of other physics nerds! It’ll be a great time. And _if_ it isn’t, I’ll pay for the cab home _and_ I’ll buy pizza.”

Another smile filled Barry’s face. Iris always seemed to be able to work a smile onto his lips, somehow. Sisterly intuition, Barry presumed.

“Okay.” he said. “I’ll go.”


End file.
